Exciting Proposal
by Thorn In Your Side
Summary: Will you be my fukataichou? Drabbles on captain-lieutenant dynamics. Now showing: Kensei and Mashiro.
1. Flirt and Pervert Girl

**Exciting Proposal**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.**

**A/N: Hey, hi. **

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

When Shunsui Kyouraku became captain, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that his fukataichou would be a stunningly pretty woman. It was Yamamoto Genryuusai that called Kyouraku into his chambers to debrief him on the _**other **_characteristics of a good lieutenant.

"She must be smart. And strong."

"Got it, ol' Yama."

"She must have enough self-respect to never, ever sleep with you. Also you should not take it upon yourself to 'test' her self-respect by seducing her."

The fan the man put up to his heart was so feminine Genryuusai had to wonder how anyone would think Kyouraku was straight at first glance. But then…this stealth heterosexual technique might explain a lot of his success.

"Your insinuations!" Shunsui-taichou exclaimed, "They shock me!"

"She must not be blonde."

"Um, isn't that illegal, to discriminate based on hair color?"

"Where do you think we are, Shunsui?" Genryuusai demanded, "Is this Norma Lee's birthplace? No. It's Soul Society. I don't like the image of you with a blonde fukataichou so your fukataichou will not be blonde. Understood?"

Yes, sir.

As if your overwhelming reiatsu books any argument.

000

"Lisa-chan~!"

"Go away, Shunsui-san."

The 8th division cafeteria was crowded with shinigami eating lunch and Lisa was least happy about the shinigami seated across her, a grin plastered across his hairy face. His flowery pink robe tainted the warm, masculine air and his hat offended everyone that clapped eyes on it. Lisa was least happy, or have I already mentioned?

"Actually, it's Shunsui-taichou now. Not that it matters; I'll always be your sweet Kyouraku…"

"I don't see your haori, captain."

"Well." He paused to let his eyes glint aggravatingly, "I find it doesn't go well with the rest of my clothes."

"You could try losing the robe."

"Would you like to help me take it off, Lisa-chan?"

"Captain, you disgust me."

He smiled a full, easy smile that made her want to reach over and slap it off his face. And then he opened his stupid mouth and said a few stupid words that made her stupid heart go ba-boom, boom.

"I want you to be my vice-captain."

"Don't be ridiculous, Shunsui-san," she said, scowling expertly through her glasses, "What makes you think I would accept?"

Kyouraku pulled a pair of chopsticks from within his robes and helped himself to her yakisoba. "Think about it," he coaxed, "All those hours you'll have to revile me in."

"Despite what you think, taichou, declaiming my dislike of you is not my favorite hobby."

He figured it out. "So you like me."

"No, I simply don't like disliking you."

He tried again. "So you want to like me."

"Hah!"

"Lisa-chan," he put the chopsticks away. "Please consider it carefully. I would be honored if you would be my fukataichou." He got up and started to leave, but a brilliant idea slapped him across his face. Turning his cheek over his shoulder, Kyouraku said, "Unless of course you feel uncomfortable spending so much time with a man you are so obviously besotted with. In which case I understand perfectly—I will simply ask Nene-chan in your stead."

And he left Lisa with a thunderstruck expression on her face, beside himself with glee at his own genius.

000

She drew her sword and rushed Hiyori, glad in the safety of their friendship and their weird mode of communication.

"The balls—on that man!"

"Don't tell me—you've seen them!" the diminutive blonde pushed her back almost effortlessly. Lisa gathered her strength for a tougher attack.

"He's asked me—argh! To be his—uh! Lieutenant!"

"Holy shit!" Hiyori staggered, back flipped, and leapt to her feet with sword swinging. "What'd you say?"

"I said no!"

The shorter girl seemed surprised. "Why?"

Lisa stopped to roll her eyes, then yelped as Hiyori saw an opening to attack.

"Because I can't—stand him!"

They trained in relative silence for a few hours after that lie. During the break, they sat on a bench and Hiyori spoke her mind.

"I know he's a womanizer and a bastard but he's still a good guy and I think you can stand up to him. Plus it's a good promotion for a seventh seat to be offered."

Lisa wiped her neck with a towel. "I know that."

Hiyori shook her sweaty hair free of its pigtails and put her head between her legs. Lisa looked to the sky. "It would feel like I'm giving in to him."

Ah, but would he see it that way?

000

"Lisa-chan~!"

"Go away, taichou."

Another day, another lunch, another round of woo-the-woman.

Kyouraku seemed all business today. He sat down and fussed with his robe as he asked, "And how is your mind made up about my proposition, Lisa?"

The lack of honorific startled her. She stammered incoherently for a while, and the he took her hands in his own. There was no trace of a smile on his face, and the somber expression on his hairy (handsome. Let's face facts, shall we, Lisa? He's handsome) face did things to her air inflow that she'd wanted no man to be able to do.

"Lisa," he said, "I have a very high opinion of you. You're a strong woman—I know from experience. My jaw still aches some mornings from the beating you gave me when I wouldn't take your rejection of my advances. You're smart, and adamant. I love that, I respect that. I told you it would be an honor to have you as my fukataichou and I meant it. I will not settle for second best—if you won't be my lieutenant I will simply not have one."

Her eyes went up then, to meet his and ascertain the truth in his words.

"I mean it. You're not a conquest. You're a blessing."

He was going to say more, but she'd heard enough. She cleared her throat loudly and said, "Yes."

Shunsui stared.

"Yes, taichou. I accept." The briskness returned to her voice and she was grateful to it; she removed her hands from his and picked up her lunch tray. "Well, when shall we pick up badge?"

He sighed and pt his face in his palms. "Damn it."

Lisa stopped, wary. "What?"

Kyouraku looked up at her and smiled. "I had a page and half of material prepared. You should've heard it all—Jyuushiro helped me write it. Would've made you fall for me terribly hard."

She turned her back on him so he wouldn't see her smile. Puffed up preening bastard would probably take it as a sign of undying love.

"Captain, you disgust me."

Ah, but does he see it that way?

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**I'll be changing the character filter with each chapter. I hope you enjoy this story!**


	2. Kenchan and Yachiru

**Exciting Proposal**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. **

**A/N: Summon witty comment. **

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Zaraki's heard form someone someplace that you give your heart to the person that is the most valuable, irreplaceable thing in your life.

For him that person was Yachiru. He'd never admit it to her—but then he didn't have to. He just liked the way she felt on his back: like a feather that may or may not be there. Her reiatsu paled next to his until he could hardly feel it. He could never tell if Yachiru was there. But he knew indubitably and invariably that she always, always was.

Where else could she be?

Um, right. In the mortal world, fulfilling her shinigami duties. The highest officers in Seireitei didn't do a lot of soul burial—just a minimum amount allotted by the Central Council. Yachiru preferred to complete her quota in one fell swoop, so for one week Kenpachi knew she would be indubitably, invariably _**not **_there.

As a gift for when she came back home to his back (confusing), he decided to give her his heart.

This would be kinda fun.

He flexed his fingers and tried to determine the speed and strength required to snatch the still beating heart from his ribcage.

Okay. First attempt: start.

Hmm. There was something red pulsing in his hand, but it didn't look so pretty. Ah well, the bloodier it was the better Yachiru would…

Shit went white before fading to black and he woke up Unohana's soft, evil face hovering over him.

"Zaraki-san," she said in a pleasantly menacing voice, "Why did you feel the need to rip your heart out of your own chest?"

He told her, and she blinked rapidly a few times before bursting into hysterical laughter. Isane looked mortified as she led her captain away to a quiet room for a while.

Zaraki failed to see the joke.

When the two women came back, Isane bowed herself out of their presence and Unohana Retsu told Zaraki Kenpachi all about the wonderful world of figurative speech. He thought there wasn't much meaning in giving someone your 'metaphorical' heart and Unohana told him (politely) that he was a stupid barbarian and therefore incapable of grasping the concept of love. Zaraki argued that by most definitions he 'loved' Yachiru as much as one can love the overly cute personification of irritation and Unohana triumphantly declared that this was what giving your heart meant, to _**love **_that person.

He said, "What the fuck?"

She said, "Mind your tongue please, Zaraki-san," before stabbing it with a fat needle.

000

The fifth hellmoth of the week showed up on the day Yachiru bounced up on his back, squealing bloody murder.

"I was gonna get you a gift," Kenpachi said, "But Unohana made me put it back."

Yachiru put her face in front of his and said, "But Ken-chan's already given me the best gift ever! How can he outdo himself!?"  
"What the fuck," he asked, and then flinched in case Unohana was around.

"Ken-chan gave me his back! His broad, strong back!" she pulled on his bells gleefully. "Everyone knows the ultimate sign of trust and love is to give someone your back! Ken-chan's saying he trusts me not to stab it and betray him! And that he always wants me close by but out of harm's way! Plus it's the most special reserved seat it the whole! Wide! World!"

He picked her up by the collar and held her in front of him to watch her happy, beaming face.

"I guess," he said slowly, "I'm really good at giving gifts. Heh, who knew?"

"Ken-chan's really super awesome great at everything!"

A grunt shoved past his lips, and he threw her over his shoulder where she clung to the captain's haori.

"Hey Ken-chan, what was the hellmoth about?"

"They've really been getting on my case 'cause it's been two months since I defeated the old Kenpachi and I still haven't picked a lieutenant. Hey, you wanna be it?"

"Ooooh, Kusajishi-fukataichou sounds really cool! Yeah, yeah! I'd love to be your vice-captain, Ken-chan!"

Zaraki grinned. "Sweet. Let's go tell that grandfather Yamamoto about it."

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x  
Short.**

**But satisfactory? **


	3. Byakushi and Tattoo Man

**Exciting Proposal**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. **

**A/N: I originally meant to write a chapter for Soifon and Marechiyo; then I read "Migration of the Animals". I can think of no better way to pull those two together, so I let it slide because I'm so bad at writing Soifon anyway. **

**This chapter contradicts canon, but a reviewer recently reminded me that the pooches of canon can be screwed for the sake of good fanfiction, so I'm just going to commit a wee bit o' bestiality. **

**Erm, let's see…imouto-san is 'little sister'. I think that's the only Japanese word that's not obvious in this chapter. **

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Kuchiki Byakuya was always as arrogant as he was talented. Early on, sometime between chasing Yoruichi across Seireitei and listening to his grandfather's periodic lectures about the virtues of nobility, Byakuya decided that he would only ever enter Gotei 13 as a captain. There would be no mucking about with seats and vice-captaincy for him.

If this was his way, then, there were two choices available to him: he could defeat a current captain in pitched combat and take his position, or avail the recommendations of a three captains and the approval of six others. The official test was only an option for seated shinigami; an aristocrat like him that had never bothered attending the Academy would be ineligible.

Byakuya had wanted to fight, if only because that seemed the honorable (macho) thing to do. Grandfather had his own opinion on the matter, and once it was expressed it became an order. Byakuya would enter by recommendation. This was unlikely to win him many friends among the hardworking shinigami that had clawed their way to the top, but then who needed them? Besides. Byakuya had promised to obey the rules, and his elders made those.

The sixth division had a vacancy, and Byakuya took it.

Genryuusai Yamamoto-soutaichou said, "Pick your lieutenant, _**young master**_," because he would never forget that Byakuya had taken the easy way in.

Picking, Byakuya thought later as he sat in his office for the first time, was easier said than done. A fukataichou would share an intimacy with his or her captain that Byakuya wasn't comfortable with. His eyes slid to the right, where a paper lantern illuminated the sliding door that separated the captain's chambers from his lieutenant's. A lieutenant would follow him everywhere. Byakuya blinked. Even to the grave he'd had dug for Hisana, where no one had dared, thus far, to follow him.

A lieutenant would look to him for guidance. And he would have to depend on this subordinate—no captain could manage the paperwork of an entire division by himself.

Especially Shunsui Kyouraku. Byakuya's eyes narrowed. He had little respect for a man who delegated everything to his fukataichou and then proceeded to hit on her for her efficiency.

Pervert.

A thin, graceful hand rose to his hair to smooth it unnecessarily. He would certainly not treat _**his **_lieutenant like that. Let it never be said that Kuchiki-taichou was incapable of handling his division without his vice-captain. No matter what, he would never rely too much on his subordinate. He would always stay up-to-date with happenings in the 6th Division, and the rest of Seireitei.

Yes, damn it. Yes, yes, yes.

So. Fukataichou. Who would suit the post…?

Abarai Renji burst into his office, shouting, "Kuchiki-taichou, please let me be your vice-captain!" with a bowed head that shot up as it remembered its manners. Eyes widening comically, he backpedaled and shut the door before his muffled voice filtered through.

"Forgive me this disturbance! Please grant me permission to enter!"

Byakuya blinked.

He'd felt the man pacing the corridor for the last half-hour, but had assumed he was just patrolling. Apparently not. Apparently, he'd been mustering courage. "Come in, Abarai," he said, and Renji did, looking like someone who's perfectly aware of his foolishness.

Byakuya watched him mildly. "This is most unorthodox, Abarai. A shinigami proposing himself to a captain."

Renji dropped to his elbows and knees in a servile bow and began shouting again. "I'm very sorry, sir! But I wasn't sure that you would consider me as an option! I wanted to make my interest clear! Please let me be your fukataichou!"

The Kuchiki lord said, "Get up, Abarai, and stop shouting your words."

So Renji did, looking uneasy. He didn't really think he had the guts to speak softly to the captain. When he shouted he drowned out the voices in his head that were telling him to turn and _**run. **_

"You are the third seat," Byakuya said, "You are the natural favorite for a promotion. Why would you believe that I wouldn't consider you?"

Byakuya knew very damn well why. He wanted to see if Renji had enough gumption to say it. After some hesitation, the red haired punk found it in him to draw out the words at a normal decibel.

"It's that…for taichou's temperament…he wouldn't like me."

"Why wouldn't I like you?" he was _**pushing **_the point, he knew, but he found it curious. Abarai Renji was not a man Kuchiki Byakuya dwelled on. This was simply a chance to observe his officer's behavior.

"I am…that is, my personality…" Byakuya could practically see 'screw this shit' scrawled on Renji's face as he reverted to yelling, "I have been told that I am too hot-headed for Kuchiki-taichou to tolerate!"

"It's your volume I find intolerable," Byakuya said ruthlessly. Red hot shame rose to Renji's face, but Byakuya wasn't inclined to indulge that sort of thing. As an errant breeze scampered in through the open window to escape the torturous summer heat, Byakuya asked, "Who told you that?"

Renji's fists clenched at his side. "A person, Kuchiki-taichou."

The brunet blinked. "Abarai," he clarified, "If you really do wish to become my lieutenant, your loyalty should first be to me. Seireitei, even the Council comes second. So I shall ask you _**one more time. **_Who has told you that you are too hot-headed for me?"

"Ah…" Renji seemed torn, "Your sister, sir. Kuchiki Rukia."

Well then, that would explain Abarai's discomfort in giving up the name. Byakuya wasn't blind—he could see Renji's devoted eyes hanging all over his sister like a wet towel, everywhere she went. He wouldn't call it disgusting, but there was no appeal in it either.

"Abarai, why aren't you in the 13th Division?"

Renji seemed to take this as an insult. His eyes betrayed the offence he was trying to crush. "If taichou sees me as unfit for the 6th…"

"Don't be ridiculous." Byakuya actually waved a hand at his stupid subordinate, "I was merely wondering. You would be a lot closer to imouto-san if you'd applied for a position in her division."

Renji's face was like a blank scroll in the way emotions scribbled themselves clearly across his handsome nose. Confusion flared to life as his eyebrow tattoos scrunched together in a frown.

"But I didn't join the Gotei 13 to be close to Rukia. I joined it for you."

Another blink! Byakuya was on a roll today! Though he hadn't seen this coming…a lieutenant that was in love with him would be no good at all.

"I joined for the chance to someday surpass you," Renji concluded.

Oh. So _**that **_was what it was. Byakuya was pleased to note that Renji's voice was low and confident when he said this. Not that you'd guess it to look at his face. He glanced imperiously at the paperwork on his desk and back at this man that was offering himself for Byakuya's use in an entirely heterosexual way.

"Really, Renji-kun," hey! Where had the familiar honorific of –kun crept in from? Disgraceful, "Do you feel justified in hoping for such an impossible thing? The difference between our strengths cannot be made up for with a hundred thousand years' worth of training."

Renji had the sperm to smile. "All the same, taichou. I have to dream."

Byakuya was kind of tempted to smile back. Abarai Renji reminded him of himself at a younger age. Before Yoruichi had gone missing, before Hisana had died. An unruly personality trying to conform to propriety, breaking loose at awkward times.

If it was such a person…Byakuya gazed at Renji. Hope lay on his face like a woman on her back with her legs spread wide. Waiting for Byakuya. If it was such a person, understanding him would be easy. Commanding him would be natural. The intimacy would not be uncomfortable…a man like Renji would not understand the bond they would inevitably forge between themselves.

If it was such a person…

"Keep dreaming, Renji-kun," Byakuya glanced down to his paperwork again to avoid Renji's crushed insect face. "Please leave. ...Come back tomorrow. We will collect your badge first thing in the morning."

He looked back up to watch Renji's dead hope be swept aside by dawning joy. Really, what a fascinating face! Had he, Byakuya, been so easy to read as a child?

"Kuchiki-taichou…"

In a rare moment of indiscretion, Byakuya allowed a smile to simmer on his lips.

"Yes, Abarai-fukataichou?"

The dawning joy burst into flaming happiness. His voice rung around the office like a gong.

"Thank you very much!!"

If it was this kind of person…

Kuchiki Byakuya would need to invest in ear plugs.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**


	4. Four Eyes and Buns

**Exciting Proposal **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. **

**A/N: Aramaki, for those who cannot remember, is the 11****th**** Division member that tries to bully Uryuu and Orihime in the Rescuing Rukia arc. He really left an impression on me, that one did…**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Sousuke was the shit. The O. G. The most treacherous reprobate, and the sexiest villain alive. After he removed Hirako Shinji from his post, he became captain of the 5th Division and immediately asked Gin to be his lieutenant.

This move surprised people. I mean, Ichimaru Gin, that scary little genius, was _**creepy. **_He never stopped smiling. Did anyone even know the color of his eyes? Ve-ry suspicious. Aizen Sousuke on the other hand had the warmest, kindest, brownest eyes anyone had ever seen or even heard of. What a mismatch.

Sousuke liked having Gin for a lieutenant. He liked Gin in general. He was ridiculous in an insightful way and made good conversation. He was smart, sharp and wholly content to be second in command. Not that Sousuke couldn't crush him like a bug if Gin was otherwise inclined, but he wouldn't enjoy it. He really liked Gin, and not just because 'Aizen-sama' was a nice way to be addressed.

So when Gin was selected as a captain (in accordance with Sousuke's magnificent plan, naturally) Sousuke didn't particularly look forward to find a replacement.

Seireitei flowed past him…oh no wait, he was the one walking through the city. Still, what the fuck: Seireitei flowed past him, and he exited the gates to wander the Rukongai markets. A familiar reiatsu wafted over him and he looked left, where a small band of shinigami was teasing a member of his division.

"Take your bun down, Hinamori," one of the men was saying, "What's the problem?"

Hinamori's problem was that she _**did not want **_to take down her bun and she _**did not want **_to be stuck in the middle of these boors from the 11th Division. The keeper of the stall they had her cornered against was a small man who looked unhappy about her plight but unwilling to go up against shinigami to rescue her.

Momo peeved Sousuke. He equated her to nothing more than a parasite, leeching off the strengths of the male friends she wrapped around her finger and called '-kun'. If it was up to Aizen Sousuke the O.G. version, he would leave her there to grow a spine and elbow her way out of the men. But he was Aizen Sousuke, pussy captain version, so he stepped in on her behalf.

"Everything okay, Hinamori?"

His searing smile didn't scare Aramaki and the other 11th Division pigs, but his captain's haori did. They started and moved guiltily away from the quivering mess of a woman that looked up at Sousuke with teary eyes.

"Aizen-taichou!"

Bleh.

She wiped her tears hurriedly in a pathetic attempt to put up a brave façade for him. Sousuke put a comforting hand on her shoulder and led her away. (Aramaki and his cohorts had disappeared. Sousuke didn't mind.)

"You shouldn't let them bully you, Hinamori," he said to her as they walked, "Being a seated officer, you should learn to stand up for yourself."

"Ah," she sniffed adorably, "Really, when Aizen-taichou is with me I feel like I _**can **_stand up against anything! but when I am alone, I seem to freeze up."

Weakling fungus, he thought lazily, you will not win me over with such ease.

"Aizen-taichou fills me with strength, I think…"

If Sousuke was an illusion, Momo was a charmer. There was no doubt in his mind that only his superior status as a captain stopped her from tagging a simpering '-kun' to his name and claiming him for herself. Not a lot of people could resists those big innocent eyes or that soft voice. Luckily, Sousuke was irresistible too and knew how not to fall for his own trick.

"Aizen-taichou…is truly inspiring."

He supposed the only difference between them was that he entranced people willfully and expertly while Momo trailed behind her a string of 'friends' she'd unwittingly beguiled. She wasn't aware of their eyes boring through her; she was too concerned with watching him…

Him.

Sousuke.

…Right! Hadn't he been saving these three (as in Abarai, Kira, and Hinamori) for this kind of situation exactly? He'd been saving them for when Tozen, Ichimaru and he were captains in need of lieutenants, malleable young things. Thought Abarai was not as easy as he'd originally appeared—good thing Sousuke had suggested his transfer to the 6th Division. But Hinamori? She was the most gullible of them all. He would have her dying for Aizen Sousuke's approval.

Actually.

He had her dying for Aizen Sousuke's approval right now. Her eager eyes confirmed it. Mm, come to think of it he _**was **_rather bored. Hey Hinamori? Do you want to play with me?

"Hey Hinamori? I wonder if you want to be my vice-captain."

Momo stopped abruptly, her jaw agape with astonishment. A moment passed during which he merely looked at her, and then she stepped forward to bury her face in his chest, her fists balling up in his robes.

"Uuuuuh…captain…ah, ah…"

Was she _**crying**_? How indelicate. It was a yes or no question, what was there to cry about? Sousuke mastered the impulse to frazzle her with reiatsu and peel her corpse off his sacred body. He needed this sad piece of filth.

"Captain…uuhh…I'd love t-t-to…" Momo whimpered, and Sousuke pushed her back. Just a little bit.

"You know, I have to give the 46 Council a reason why I chose you." Bullshit, they didn't give a damn; captains chose their seconds at their own discretion or lack thereof. But why would Momo ever suspect he'd tell her anything but the truth? "So you must prove yourself to me. It's a cruel thing to ask, I'm aware…"

Momo dried her eyes again and adopted a passable impersonation of fierce determination. "No! I want to do it. I will prove myself! Please tell me what to do, Aizen-taichou!"

Sousuke pretended to ponder it at great length. They were almost back at Seireitei when he decided, "The leader of those men who were teasing you. Aramaki, wasn't it? Yes, he was cruel to you…so if you could fight him, then that would be enough." He smiled a kind smile and placed a blessed hand on her head.

"Can you do that for me, Hinamori?"

Momo beamed up at him without any fear or hesitation. Hers was a sealed fate, and this thing that would transpire now was just a taste of what Aizen Sousuke would put her through in the future.

000

Aramaki was an unseated shinigami, but seats didn't count for much in the 11th Division. Every last man and woman in Zaraki's army was every inch as demonic as the captain himself; they all loved to fight and were loathe to walk away from a challenge.

When Momo puffed herself up on imagined affection from Sousuke and confronted him, Aramaki was delighted. First at the prospect of a fight, and again at the idea that she might actually possess the guts to take him on.

She did not.

In indomitable spirit and will to continue Momo impressed Aramaki, but the truth was she had been promoted before she was ready because Sousuke had willed it, and her meek blade was no match for Aramaki's battle hardened zanpakutou.

"Hinamori-san," he used an honorific bestowed on her by dint of her 11th-esque traits, "Please put away your blade. You've _**lost.**_"

Momo didn't know the meaning of that word. Not when she was fighting for her precious Aizen-taichou. Normally Zaraki's men didn't discourage their opponents from attacking again (and again, and again…) but Aramaki was _**worried **_that this frail female would tarnish his blade with her inglorious death.

Madarame Ikkaku and Ayasegawa Yumichika played audience, and Aizen Sousuke made his appearance as the last quart of blood started to leave Momo's body.  
"This is no good, Hinamori," he said quietly and scooped her up, "You shouldn't hurt yourself like this."

Her eyes were dark with fatigue and the touch of hot pain. "But Aizen-taichou said—"

"Hush," he soothed, and turned to Aramaki.

"You will let me take her away?" he pretended to ask permission, "I know it's not always acceptable in your division to stop a fight before the combatants are dead."

"I can make an exception," Aramaki bowed, "Hinamori-san is dedicated."

Hinamori is piss in weak coffee, Sousuke thought, but you wouldn't know seeing as how you're trash yourself.

There were broken bones, contusions, concussions, torn ligaments, ripped arteries and bleeding skin for Kotetsu Isane to fix. She did it without too many questions because Kyoka Suigetsu told her to. Momo was too blacked out to notice the 4th Division's vice captain's lack of curiosity.

(That was just fine with Sousuke. The way she'd bled for his approval cracked him up. Even sexy villains could laugh at jokes. He made up his mind to nurture her love of him until his absence would kill her. This ought to be fun.)

Unaware of Sousuke's nefarious plans for her, Momo woke up with a smile on her sweet lips.

"Aizen-taichou…"

"You were very brave," Sousuke whispered to her, his eyes pure emphatic worry for her well-being, "I'm lucky to have you as my fukataichou, Hinamori."

Lucky you're such a dumb fuck.

Her eyes closed contentedly, and Sousuke thought that in a sadistic sort of way he'd end up liking this lieutenant just as much as he'd liked Gin.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**The two chapters following this will be in continuity, I think. Just a little bit.**


	5. Grinsie and That One Guy

**Exciting Proposal**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.**

**A/N: I nearly broke my brain trying to remember if Kira was Izuru's first name or last name. I finally deduced that because Momo calls him Kira-kun, it must be his last name. (Well, surname, technically, since I'm using the Eastern naming system.) **

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

If he was going to be honest about it he would say that the day he'd met Aizen Sousuke was the day that the countdown to the end of his friendship with Rangiku started.

However, this was Ichimaru Gin and he was not honest, ergo he would never say it. He would say instead that meeting Aizen Sousuke was the best thing that had happened to him because even though Aizen-sama couldn't grow watermelons on his chest, he had illuminated Gin's bright future. Aizen-sama had nurtured Gin's talent and tuaght him to harness it. It was by his grace that Gin was now a captain.

A corner of his mind murmured that a future without Rangiku was not particularly sparkly with perfection, and that his talent would never have survived the Rukongai if Rangiku hadn't given him a reason to wield it. A different, more male part of his mind murmured that her breasts were very, very important to his happiness and Aizen-sama's inability to replicate them was a serious drawback in siding with him. Whatever, Gin told these parts of his mind to shut up lest Aizen-sama hear them and be displeased.

Aizen-sama, Aizen-sama, Aizen-sama.

Rangiku stopped being the center of his life as Sousuke took him to greater heights, but Gin always knew she was waiting patiently to reclaim her position as the sun in his sky. Gin knew that when he conquered the mountain of Gotei 13, she'd expect a place at his side to be reserved for her.

She'd expect to play lieutenant to his captain.

Aizen-sama, however, was very clear about his intentions.

"You must ask Kira Izuru. I have set him aside for your use; he is far more suitable to our purposes than Matsumoto-san."

And how could Gin disobey?

And yet how could Gin obey?

She'd been the first to congratulate him when the 46 Council approved his promotion. The uniquely Rangiku smell of sake and flowers crashed over him as she pulled him into her bounteous cleavage.

"Yay, Gin~! Captain of the 3rd Division, wow! I'll have to call you Ichimaru-taichou from now on!"

The grin that never left his face widened between her breasts as he said, "Yes you will, or I'll have you thrown in jail for severe insubordination!"

Rangiku snorted. "Pig-head! Bite my punch-drunk ass, Gin!"

He laughed and was released from her embrace. She settled into an expectant silence, waiting for him to ask.

"So then," he said, "I guess I have to go tell Aizen-sama the good news." Right, as if the whole of Seireitei didn't already know. Rangiku didn't bat an eye, she smiled and said:

"Oh, okay~ Catch you later, Gin!"

She thought he would ask when things cooled down a little. He was wasting time as he figured out how to stay her best friend without making her his vice captain.

Tricky business.

Sousuke's cup of tea.

000

"The solution is simple," Aizen-sama said to him, "You merely fail to mention it. Ask Kira-kun and tell her about it, nonchalantly. Knowing Matsumoto-san, she will not confront you about violating your unspoken agreement. She will assume it was only her who thought it was going to be that way."

Gin didn't usually doubt his liege, but when it came to Rangiku rules just stopped to take a breather.

"Aizen-sama, isn't that too cruel?"

"Gin, won't it be far more cruel to allow her to become your vice-captain? The time may come when we need to dispose of our lieutenants. Would Shinsou not hesitate to shoot if it was Matsumoto-san you are aiming at?"

Aizen-sama had his best interests at heart, apparently.

"So then...if she's not my lieutenant, I won't have to kill her?"

Sousuke smiled benignly at his protege. "Of course not, Gin. I will carry out that distasteful task myself, in order to spare you."

Ah. No mercy.

Well, it was too late in the day for Gin to start protesting. He should've spoken up immediately after joining Aizen-sama's ranks. To speak now would be mutiny.

Aizen-sama would not like that so much.

000

Izuru had admired Ichimaru Gin since the day he'd shown up with Aizen-taichou to save him, Abarai, Hinamori-kun and Hisagi-sempai from all those scary hollows. Aizen Sousuke was mellow and gentle, but Hinamori was attracted to those self-same qualities and that made Izuru jealous. Ichimaru-san on the other hand appeared more fun-loving, jovial. Izuru liked such frivolity, though he might not admit it. Working under Ichimaru-san promised to be a hoot.

(Ha-ha, Izuru, if only you knew how much you'll not be laughing when he turns his back on you.)

When Gin became captain, Izuru was a well-seated officer in the right division. He wasn't sure that Gin would ask him to serve as his fukataichou, but he didn't quite have the courage to suggest it or even hint at it. It seemed unconventional in a crass way. It seemed like something Abarai Renji would do.

(Oh, burn.)

He shared his thoughts with Hinamori and Abarai (except not that last one because Renji was lousy company when he sulked.)

"...Ah! Kira-kun," Momo exclaimed, "That's an admirable goal, but isn't it kind of impossible?"

Izuru went stiff: not because Momo's soft voice was so **_pleasurable, _**but because her words were underestimating him so that his spine ran cold with offense.

"That's right," Renji said, "Isn't Matsumoto-san going to be Ichimaru-san's lieutenant? They've been friends for a very long time."

Ohhhhhh. Izuru's heart fell into his stomach with a depressed plop. Yes, Matsumoto Rangiku was there, wasn't she? How foolish it would be on his part to think Ichimaru-taichou wuld consider anyone but her. Silly, silly Izuru.

Gin's voice broke over their cozy little gathering like an egg and the yellow yolk of his words that dripped down on them smelt funny.

"Kira! Can I have you as my vice-captain, Kira?"

No, seriously. What a funny smell.

"Eh...eh, Ichimaru-taichou!" Izuru scrambled to his feet, Renji and Momo following his graceless example. "What...what did you just say!?"

Gin's beatific grin beat down on him as he said, "I want you to be my vice-captain. What do you think?"

WHat did he think? Oh, I'll tell you what he thought. He thought it was fantastic. He thought it was spectacular. He thought it was amazing and superb and hunky-freakin'-dory, thank you very fuckin' much.

"What about Matsumoto-san?" he blurted out.

Alright, so I was wrong. Bite me.

Momo and Renji looked impressed at the selflessness of that question, but Izuru was already wishing he could take it back. Gin had just acquired a very thoughtful look, or as thoughtful a look could get with that grin of his.

"Hmm...that's true...Rangiku is my dearest friend," he mused, and Izuru's rising heart dropped back down, "However," his grin brightened, "I want **_you _**to be my lieutenant, so it's her loss!"

Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, they say, and Izuru was perfectly happy to roll with that sentiment. He bowed to Gin, going, "In that case, Ichimaru-taichou, I would be honored to accept."

And to hell with Rangiku going batshit when she found out.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**


	6. Silver Hair and Cow Boobs

**Exciting Proposal**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.**

**A/N: I feel like this is a cheat-chapter, because they're drunk. I hope it makes sense...I hope they're believable. **

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

Toshiro was very pissed off. Two months, just by **_two months _**his ordainance as a captain had been delayed and Momo had become someone else's lieutenant.

God damn it!

If only he'd asked her as soon as Yamamoto-soutaichou told him of his decision instead of waiting to spring it on her after the promotion ceremony. If only Gin hadn't become a captain just now; if only Sousuke hadn't taken her for himself; if only...

If only Momo had waited.

He pushed back the disappointed bile rising in his throat with another glass of beer. It was the light, sweet kind brewed in winter and felt comfortably icy in his chest.

Rangiku sat on the barstool next to him. She too was pissed, but as in wasted and not off. She couldn't get angry at Gin, it would be like getting angry at the moon. It wouldn't last very long...who could stay mad at the _**moon**_? Rangiku was putty in his hands. She knew it was pathetic, but she was too sad to care.

"How could he **_do that,_**" she exhaled all over Toshiro's face, "That power-whore. That weird-eyed pig. How could he not make me his vice-captain?"

Toshiro hadn't meant to get drunk, honest. It was just that after the third glass, it had seemed like a good idea to keep going.

"Doesn't she **_know,_**" he grumbled, "That I was going to ask her? Who else could I have asked? Who else is there for me?"

Rangiku was distracted from her own selfish angst by this little boy's question. "Hey," she said, "Hey, I'm here for you. Like, I'm listening to you, aren't I? Yeah...yeah...hey. I'm **_here_** for you."

He nodded gratefully. "Thank you very, very much."

"You're welcome. For what, again?"

Toshiro looked confused and then looked down at the glass he'd been about to sip from.

"Um, um...you paid for my drink, I think."

Tears sprung to Rangiku's eyes as she marvelled at her own generosity. "Wow oh wow am I a neat person or, or, or what. What? I overcame my sadness to pay for your drink!"

"Yes you did," Toshiro confirmed, drinking the drink that she had, apparently, bought for him. "This I am absolutely convinced that you did. It was a good deed."

She blinked. "Did what deed?"

"Good deed."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Yes," he repeated before adding, "It's not good to be sad."

"No," Rangiku agreed, "How do I stop not...being...good...?"

Their empty glasses were filled by a disembodied hand that was in actual fact attached to the bartender. Toshiro suddenly knew what they would have to do.

"Drink!"

So they drank, both of them, and Rangiku found it in her to frame an intelligible question.

"Why did I pay for your drink?"

He frowned for an age and felt his pockets. "If can't be because I have no money," Toshiro slurred, "I have money."

Rangiku said, "Oh."

"Yes."

She pressed on. "Why did I pay for your drink, then?"

Toshiro nodded knowingly. "You must be trying to flirt with me. Girls like doing that. A lot of them flirt with me." He paused. "Well, not Hinamori. But you," he concluded, "Must be trying to flirt with me."

Rangiku was impressed. "Oh. Hey, er, is it working?"

"Yes," he said, "What?"

"Flirting."

"Yes," he said again, "What?"

She decided to think for herself. "If I'm flirting with you," she mused, "And if it's working, then the next logical step would be a kiss." Rangiku turned to Toshiro. "Would you like that?"

"Yes. What?" Toshiro shook his head. "I should get sober now, I think."

All kissing was postponed indefinitely as Rangiku perked up at his words. "Ooh," she said, "If that's what you want, I know how to do that!"

The owner of the bar was quite accustomed to having patrons stagger out with their glasses half full and their bills unpaid. He had a horde of Rukongai urchins at his disposal that would trail the customers home, where they would awaken the next day with a hangover and the (exaggerated) bill from last night.

Rangiku and Toshiro made their woozy, boozy way to her home, where they slumped on her sofa and tried to remember the reason they existed.

"Throw up," Toshiro said, and Rangiku frowned.

"No, no. You don't have to do that. A moment..." she crashed to her kitchen and returned with a bowl of sliced limes. "Here," she offered him one half, "Suck on that."

He obliged, and the explosion of citrus in his mouth curbed the need to puke. Toshiro was quite stymied at this marvel, and blinked a few times. Rangiku was setting down two coffee mugs and a large pitcher of water.

"Get sober," she said proudly. Her body was long accustomed to going through these motions in the grip of alcohol. She sat and set an example for Toshiro. They watered themselves down to utter exhaustion and the snowy (in a not-dandruffy way) haired boy in his delirium (halfway between drunk and dead) put an arm around Rangiku's shoulders and asked.

"Why were you drinking tonight?"

She laughed and hiccoughed. "Are you kidding? I drink most nights."

"Fine," he said, "Ask me why I was drinking."

"Why were you drinking, Hitsugaya-kun?"

"I have to pick a lieutenant," he yawned, "The one I want is already taken, though."

Rangiku put her head on his shoulder and sighed. "I had a reason too, tonight. The captain I wanted to work with chose another."

Toshiro in his below-par state of intelligence could only summon one name to mind. "Aizen?"

"Gin."

The name reminded him of alcohol which reminded him he was still drunk and sad and therefore perfectly entitled to do something regrettable.

"Forget them, Matsumoto. We have each other. I am a captain, will you be my lieutenant?"

The question sunk through several layers of sake before reaching (in)coherent mind. A quick analysis of the man asking showed absolutely nothing to learn because the way she was inebriated, she'd need to take her time breaking him down. But there was no time to do that: the question had been asked and it needed an answer.

"Yes," Rangiku said, because it sounded pleasing to her ears, "Yes. Yes, yes. Yes..."

Toshiro smiled as he dropped off against her, and Rangiku said "Yes" and few more times before curling into slumber herself.

000

The hot stink of alcoholic morning breath assaulted his olfactory senses and Hitsugaya Toshiro wondered why any man would sleep with Matsumoto Rangiku if he had to wake up to such an ungodly smell.

He opened his eyes because he couldn't remember why**_ he _**was sharing a...a bed? A couch? What was this? Whatever it was, why was he sharing it with her?

They had ended up sprawled on the sofa, with Toshiro's childish form compensating for the space taken up by Rangiku's generous breasts. He was on his back, one hand under his head to serve as a pillow and the other around her waist. She was partly on top of him, her legs intertwined with his and her nose nuzzling his forehead.

The pounding in his head made it so that he couldn't remember what had happened, but it certainly didn't stop him from noticing how attractive a woman was lying with him. From his vantage point (well. So to speak) her dark-robed curves rolled like foothills at nighttime. Toshiro slowly became aware of his rapidly beating heart and the heat flushing over his cheeks.

(Think fast, tiny captain.)

"Matsumoto," he croaked. Rangiku stirred, stretching so luxuriously she pushed him off the sofa. The absence of his warm body and the yelp he gave as his abused head protested the drop from cushion to floor woke her properly.

"Huh?" her voice was groggy, "Who'szat?"

"It's Hitsugaya." He corrected himself. "Hitsugaya-taichou."

"Ah," she murmured, rolling over to look at him. He lay on he floor, unwilling to move and aggravate his aching head. Rangiku's eyes widened.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, leaping up. She saluted him on her knees, going, "Good morning, captain! This is your lieutenant reporting!"

For a while he was too impressed by her apparently ability to be impervious to her hangover to realize what she'd said. When he did, last night came screaming back.

"Lieutenant," Toshiro said blankly.

Rangiku flopped on her belly and frowned at him. "Poor captain," she said, "You can't be feeling too good. Should I make you breakfast? I can handle my hangover better than you."

He wouldn't challenge her statement seeing how it was true, but he wouldn't let her cook for him either. A part of him wanted to un-ask her the question from last night but the majority of him couldn't be bothered. If it wasn't Momo working as his vice-captain, he didn't particularly care who it was. This one was a better option than some--and, well. She was in pain, too. Toshiro didn't think he could reject her now, so soon after Gin had. So soon after being rejected himself.

In the days and weeks and months that followed this morning, many people were as taken aback by this partnership as they had been when Aizen Sousuke first chose Ichimaru Gin. Wasn't Matsumoto a very...chaotic choice for the steadfast Hitsugaya? Toshiro himself expected to rue his decision to keep her on every single day. But strangely, aside from the odd drunken brawls she'd get into, Toshiro found nothing about Matsumoto Rangiku to be truly displeased with. She was a warm, understanding soul, an unexpectedly capable fukataichou, and best of all she never let Toshiro down, like Momo had.

"Hitsugaya-taichou! We should go booze together again sometime!"

Besides. Every now and then, he thought he rather liked being smothered to her breasts.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

**I forgot to add--it was Kina 3 (god I hope I got that right, not having checked her exact name) saying something about Grinsie screwing over everyone close to him and making them get plastered that set this number off. So, um, props to that lovely reviewer. **


	7. Blind Lady Justice and Blade Scared Boy

**Exciting Proposal**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. **

**A/N: For Vivienne, who told me to. **

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

To be honest, he'd had his heart set on Abarai Renji.

And this wasn't Ichimaru Gin, this was Tousen Kaname who was always honest, at least until the path of bloodless justice required him to be otherwise. So yes, he admitted it freely. He'd had his heart set on the red-haired one.

"Unsuitable, Aizen-sama?"

Sousuke did not like to repeat himself.

"Ah," Kaname went down on one knee. "I apologize. I was merely surprised. May I ask the reason?"

Sousuke did not like to explain himself, either.

"Very well. Whom shall I choose as my lieutenant?"

And another thing. Why should Sousuke have to plan every last trivial detail? Be resourceful, captain. Or do your unseeing eyes blinker your ability to think? Pick your own damn second.

"Yes, Aizen-sama. Please excuse me."

Excused.

000

Why Renji?

Kaname couldn't see, but he could still hear. When he'd asked Gin to describe the boy to him, it had been glorious. Hair like tomatoes, Gin's latent poetic impulse had ventured, or fresh blood. Tiny eyes like pepper seeds. A voice like—oh wait, Kaname could hear that. A gait like the baboon king of some exotic jungle; tattoos for every advance in seat, power, for every hallmark of success…and hey. Had he mentioned the hair? Gorgeous hair. I mean really…a head of embers. Usually he bound it up and out of his way but Gin remembered one training session when Renji's sparring partner cut the band holding back his tresses and a lovely waterfall of scarlet silk had cascaded over his shoulders…

"I didn't know you were homosexual, Ichimaru."

Oh, sure. Doubt his preferences because he can appreciate beauty regardless of the gender it's found in. Next time, find someone else to be your eyes. Kaname!

He hadn't meant it as an insult but since Gin took it that way, Kaname developed his own method of observing Renji. He familiarized himself with the boy's reiatsu—it was hotter than most. Kaname who needed the reassuring might of justice behind him in all ventures had spent a while justifying the deception of a subordinate who would work so loyally with him. The way he'd worked out was this: shinigami and their whole system were at fault for allowing the death of his dear friend, which had been so unjust. Aizen Sousuke was worth following because he was endeavoring to change all that. But when Seireitei was brought to its trembling knees with its neck under the axe-man's blade, they would need to build a new world. It would be hard to do so from scratch—better to sow the seeds now and reap them later.

He, Kaname, would guide his vice-captain in matters of morality. He would teach him right from wrong and raise him to be a noble soul. Abarai Renji was young, still impressionable. He hadn't yet chosen a path to walk on and soon he would have to—a man must be this thing or that; he must eventually define himself by a rigid set of rules. Kaname would assist. And while for now Aizen Sousuke was not entertaining the possibility of enlarging their traitorous triangle, some distant day when Kaname retired to Hueco Mundo, Renji would understand. He would see with eyes crafted by impersonal justice that Tousen Kaname was righteous.

And in a future world as of yet unborn, Renji might once again become his companion. They would be two pure beings, lonely never again. Kaname wasn't betraying a boy by agreeing to be his mentor today and planning to desert him tomorrow; he was helping to make him a man.

Do you need me to tell you it's a good plan or can you work that out yourself?

(The real thing about Renji was that Kaname fancied himself the boy's savior. He wanted to rescue him from the brainless indignities of Gotei 13 in the main. He wanted to wash the connotation of blood clean of Renji's hair and replace it with something pure, like sky.)

Hold on. Sky was 'blue', wasn't it?

Colors were hard. Life was harder. Kaname would have to make his peace with being unable to introduce Renji to his ninja way and move on.

He was still wistful though, and vowed that his lieutenant would at least have a functional brain, unlike the adoring dolls Aizen-sama had chosen for himself and Gin.

Let's start the search!

000

Coward.

As in spineless, wormy, yellow-bellied lily-livered weak-willed scum.

Yep, that was Hisagi Shuuhei for you. He languished artfully in the middle ranks of the Division Nine his hero had once commanded, loath to climb higher for fear of challenging tasks and loath to slip lower for fear of being given soul burial duty. Loathing himself in the bargain, because what kind of worthless shit feared his own fucking zanpakutou?

"Hisagi-sempai! I've brought lunch. Will you eat with me?"

Izuru was a good man. Despite having grained seven or eight levels above his old, admired senior he still afforded respect, affection and the occasional lunch date for undeserving Shuuhei.

"You're spoiling me, Kira. It's my turn to pay."

The blond set down the hamper between them and sat at the cafeteria table with an ameliorative smile. "This doesn't count; Hinamori-kun sent this with me. You can definitely pay the next time we eat out, alright?"

Shuuhei dug through the basket for Momo's famous fishcakes. "Mm, yes. I'll have to remember to treat Hinamori, too. She takes care of us useless men well."

"Renji tried to teach me how to cook again," Izuru showed the brunet a burn on his hand. "I boiled radishes."

Shuuhei poured glasses of water for both of them and raised his. "To wounds of victory, eh?"

They wended their ravenous way through the fishcakes in silence. Izuru's eyes were loud with accumulating courage that his mouth breathed out.

"Sempai will you apply for the position of Tousen-taichou's lieutenant?"

Shuuhei paused before answering. "It'd be presumptuous of me, don't you think? The captain usually approaches the vice."

"That's not what Renji did."

"He always was a little too gutsy."

"Sempai, I can't stand it." Izuru certainly sounded that way, "All your talent is being squandered. Please consider it—Tousen-taichou will not mind being asked, I know it!"

Izuru was a good man. So good, Shuuhei felt less of a man than he normally did. How many kouhai cared sincerely? Still. Izuru didn't know what was eating Shuuhei.

Fights were scary.

Aargghhh! No, they _**weren't**_. If they were, why could everyone else participate in them? No, it was Shuuhei's problem. He didn't even have the heart to beak it to Izuru.

"Alright, Kira. I'll consider it."

000

Ironically, his impressive strength back in school led his teachers to recommend him to the 11th Division. Shuuhei had squirmed out of that one by citing his low opinion of the captain. Seriously, though? Fights were all that ever happened in Zaraki-taichou's division, and Shuuhei had nearly shat himself at the thought of using his zanpakutou on a daily basis.

If it was him and his fists, he could do it. How he had squabbled during his days as a Rukongai brat! He'd never killed anyone, though. And his sword…it was made only to kill. All he ever did with it was take lives. Fucking horrible!

But Izuru wanted him to rise to the level of lieutenant…

No, he wouldn't do that. He wouldn't burden Izuru. Shuuhei wanted it too. He had longed for it and hoped for it and now that the opportunity was at hand, he was being a coward about it.

"I want to be your lieutenant."

How hard was that to say?

"I want to be your lieutenant!"

Was it too much of a mouthful?

Shuuhei.

Are you too much of a coward?

000

The communal bathhouse seethed with steam and prattling shinigami. Shuuhei squatted on the tiles to wash himself with a soapy cloth, his hair drooping wetly into his eyes. It was a strange kid of place to come in search of an epiphany, but Shuuhei was at his wits' end. He let various conversations was over him as he wondered what kind of man he was. Was he fit to be a lieutenant?

He didn't think so, but he wanted to be—more than anything, he wanted to trust in himself. Self-loathing was driving him crazy. If he could find it in him to reach out and take this thing he wanted, he could also find it in him to respect himself.

He stretched out one leg to scrub, his fingers working between his toes and around his heel.

"Hisagi want me to do your back?" Ikeda Gisuke, a large colleague of his, loomed over him. A careless grin tugged at his lips and Shuuhei nodded. Ikeda set to with gusto and Shuuhei sat with his legs stretched out in front of him.

"Ikeda," he muttered as the man rubbed hard at his shoulders, "What do you think of me applying to be Tousen-taichou's lieutenant?"

It felt good to voice his desire, even brave. He waited for an answer. Ikeda Gisuke stopped for a second and then continued down his spine. "I dunno, Hisagi. You'd make a decent one, I'd say. Why are you asking me? Why don't you ask the captain directly?"

Yeah, why don't you, Hisagi? What's the point of telling this guy who doesn't really give a damn? It's not like he's a friend to keep it quiet, either; he's a colleague you bathe with. When he gets out of the bathhouse and hits the bar with a couple of buddies you can bet your ass he'll talk about how weirdly Shuuhei asked him such a stupid question. And **_those _**buddies of his with their tongues loosened by alcohol will spread it to a few others because there is so little gossip these days—

Oh.

Oh, you devious bastard.

Shuuhei was a coward, sure, but he knew how to best deal with that. Pressure squashed fear, and knowing that a bunch of people from his division **_expected _**him to approach Tousen-taichou would up the chances that he'd actually do it. What happened after that…um, one step at a time. He didn't need an epiphany, as it transpired. Just a good hard poke in the back to move him forward.

"Yeah, Ikeda. I'll do that."

000

"Tousen-taichou. Please make me your vice-captain."

And blind Kaname saw straight through him.

Forget Abarai Renji, **_this _**was an unformed soul. For all his advantage over Renji in age, Shuuhei hadn't made up his mind about the sort of man he wanted to be. Well, Kaname could help him with that. Kaname could show him a thing or two.

"Hisagi…are you certain?"

Don't kid around. Shuuhei wasn't sure of anything. Kaname was being handed a person he could sculpt into his idea of perfection. Shuuhei was willing to leave behind everything he knew to embrace anything Kaname taught him. The sightless captain had more conviction in one movement than Shuuhei had in his entire existence, and the latter wanted a piece of that hardnosed conviction. More than anything, he wanted to believe.

For pure beings like Kaname, it was an obligation to help anyone they could along the path of righteousness. Shuuhei was salvageable. There was only one answer he could give.

"Yes, Hisagi. You may become my vice-captain."

The fear of his sword was still there. But Shuuhei felt as though Tousen-taichou could rid him of that. If a blind man could wield a blade so boldly, what right did Shuuhei have to cower?

"I do not wield Suzumushi without fear," Kaname corrected him a few days later, "Hisagi; one should always fear his blade. Only demons enjoy battle. We fight to protect the peace."

Pax Seireitei!

"Murder in the name of justice is righteous."

Hallelujah!

"Walk the road of least bloodshed with me."

Preach it, brother! Shuuhei's with you all the way!

Except he wasn't because Aizen Sousuke had a plan reserved for three and no guests allowed. He wasn't because Kaname would leave his pet project behind to a-languish s'more. He wasn't invited to Hueco Mundo. Kaname would go alone.

For now, though?

Hisagi Shuuhei felt like a good man.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Honestly the last time I've had this much fun with a fic was back in the days of yore when I was writing Things I'm Not Allowed to Do. **


	8. Science Guy and Ape

**Exciting Proposal**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. **

**A/N: I'm a fan of Hiyori/Kisuke, Kisuke/Shinji, and Shinji/Hiyori. I tried to keep it neutral but if the chapter seems to be swinging every which way, pairing wise, it is so totally my fault. (Well I mean of course, it's not like I've got a beta to fuck shit up on my behalf.)**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**"**I refuse to be your vice-captain."

Sarugaki Hiyori stood stubborn and superior against Kisuke's endearingly bewildered expression.

"I'll resign if it comes to that but I won't serve _**you, **_you iron-crotched bastard!"

She wasn't calling him hard. She had kicked him between the legs again and bruised a toe. What was he wearing under his freaking robes, an anvil?

"As far as I'm concerned, you ain't my fucking captain!"

Kisuke dearly wanted to take this chick to the Maggots' Nest, introduce her to Kurotsuchi Mayuri and proceed to build his dream of a research center on these two capable rocks. But what was he going to do if the cornerstone wouldn't be budged?

Having run out of things to say, Hiyori spat at his feet and ran away.

000

Shinji seemed like the wisest person to approach.

"Hirako-san, you're her best friend, aren't you?" The sky was damp over Kisuke's head as he sat with the 5th Division captain on the 12th Division's porch.

Shinji noted Sousuke's reiatsu off to the east as he thought about that question. "More or less, yeah."

"Can you tell me why she's so opposed to the idea of being my fukataichou?"

At one point Shinji might've considered it a waste of time to be here explaining the inner workings of Hiyori's head to this guy, but that point had passed. He could see that Urahara Kisuke was the kind of man Hiyori could like, given time. She might do it grudgingly, but she'd like him. And despite being wary of being replaced, Shinji liked it when Hiyori made friends. It reaffirmed his faith in the humanity of her screechy little soul.

"It ain't being your second she's fightin' against, it's you." Shinji rain a hand through his hair, his eyes focusing on something in the distance. "Hikifune—your predecessor—Hikifune was a mother to Hiyori. But crap, don't ever tell her I told you that. Yeah, so she's just pissed because Hikifune left. It doesn't really have anything to do with you."

Kisuke raised a dubious eyebrow and Shinji glanced sidelong at the man. "Of course, it might help if you get hurt when she kicks you. It comforts her to cause pain."

Kisuke nodded obediently, looking down at his lap. His lands lay there, so adept at constructing marvels in the lab but so impractical when it came to winning over aggressive subordinates. He flexed his fingers and had to know.

"Hirako-san, is there anything else I can do? Can I show her that I'm not looking to replace Hikifune-san in her life, but I want to be her friend…someone she can count on and look up to?"

With that kind of attitude you already are, Shinji thought. What he said, however, was: "How well can ya dress hair?"

000

Let me explain to you how this works.

Hirako Shinji wakes up early every morning and hauls his ass over to the 12th Division's living quarters where Sarugaki Hiyori will invariably be waiting with a comb to throw at his face.

"Baldy! Can't you get here any sooner!"

Equally invariably, she settles down in front of the east-facing window, sitting criss-cross applesauce (what, you think people stop saying that after the second grade?) with her hair in morning disarray. Shinji approaches her with the same respect and caution a cleaner fish approaches a barracuda as he runs the comb through her hair. He's not particularly gentle but he never hurts her if he can help it. Every now and then he hits a snarl, and Hiyori doesn't even wince. She stares blankly at the dawning sky, content to leave her hair in his hands. This is as calm and trusting as she will get the whole day; this is when she's not Hiyori at all. The second Shinji puts the comb down, however, there's no doubt as to who she is.

"Retard, I swear you get worse at it each freakin' day!"

All Shinji ever receives for his trouble is a boot to the head, but he never complains. Don't be confused—about Hiyori he will complain till the cows come home and tuck their calves into bed; he is entitled to and expected to do that. Getting to take care of her first thing in the morning, though, being the first to touch her every day and the first person whose face she sees is a privilege he enjoys, and he never takes it for granted.

Over the yeas he's braided her hair and pulled it into pigtails or ponytails; he's straightened it and curled it and once dared wrap it up in a bun.

"Fuckin' baldy, are you trying to make me look like an old hag!"

(She left it in, but he never tried again.)

He's put in barrettes and scrunchies, he's skimmed the Rukongai markets for fun, bright things to decorate her hair with. Some days it was less a privilege and more a job; other days she felt like a paper doll in his hands.

Shinji loves doing what he does, so why the hell would he let Kisuke in on the fun?

Let me explain to you how this works.

Shinji loves Hiyori and she loves him. When Kirio was replaced by Kisuke, Hiyori thrashed him with her tears and her nails dug into his skin like fanged agony. He was powerless to help her and never wanted to put himself in that position again. If Hiyori was going to stop missing her Hikifune-san, she would need to learn to like her new captain, and her new captain would learn to like her.

For _**this **_Shinji would share his most precious privilege. For _**this **_he would let Urahara Kisuke lay hands upon his most precious person.

000

"You can practice on my hair."

"Hirako-san is very generous, but perhaps we should find someone with hair like hers?"

The captain cast a baleful eye over the captain.

"Yeah, you try that. Word'll get out that you're looking for someone with _hair like Hiyori's _and she'll beat you to a slick."

Shinji sat on a cushion, observing himself in a full-length mirror. He waved Kisuke over.

"The French plait," he began, "Is a friggin' pain in my ass. It's also the most complicated, long-winded thingy I can think of and will guarantee maximum time with Hiyori. By the time you're done doing it to my hair your arms should feel like falling off."

Kisuke knelt behind him and let his hands drift over the fine fairness of Shinji's hair. "Charming." He was wry about the mouth as he said it. "Well then. I wonder what someone walking in on us would think."

"They'd think we were a right pair of fairies," said Shinji, "That's why I've got Sousuke standing guard."

Kisuke paused. "I don't feel his reiatsu."

"Yeah, skinny bastard's gotten freakin' good at it. I think I'm the only one can sense him any more. Creepy little ass."

Kisuke was reproving. "Aizen-fukataichou would be hurt to hear you speak of him in such an unforgiving way, Hirako-san."

Shinji doubted that, but chose to change the subject. "You know the basic motions of plaiting, right? Three strands, hand over hand?"

Kisuke indicated his awareness, and the training, such as it were, was underway. By the time he finished, Shinji had turned out to be correct—Kisuke's fingers ached and his shoulders could hardly lift his arms. The thought even crossed his mind that if Hiyori wouldn't be his vice, he could simply ask another. Evidently there was a fresh recruit in Shinji's division, the youngest to graduate the Academy—a genius named Ichimaru Gin. But then he thought of Hiyori and her careless, callous ways and knew she was…well, she was fun. The lab would be livelier with her temper to shake things up. Kisuke couldn't abide dreary workplaces, and Kisuke had made up his mind.

Sarugaki Hiyori was his.

000

She didn't' suspect a thing because Shinji didn't let her. It wasn't until Hiyori had surrendered the face-injuring comb that Shinji gave the signal for Kisuke to sneak in, Sousuke ushering him along and helping to thoroughly mask his reiatsu.

Behind her, three men nervously implemented their plan. Afore her, the sky turned pink from the abusive kisses of the morning sun.

Kisuke knelt behind Hiyori and Shinji behind him. Sousuke stood quietly by the bed, furiously maintaining the illusion that no one but his captain was keeping Hiyori company.

Shinji said, "Hey, Hiyori?"

She grunted softly in response as Kisuke battled with her knotted hair.

"Whaddaya think of that Urahara guy?"

She rolled her shoulders in a haphazard shrug.

"I figure you should talk to him, you know." Shinji's voice was quiet and suggestive. "He's okay."

Sousuke stopped trying, and Kisuke's dusty reiatsu spilled against her back. A startled gasp cued Shinji and his lieutenant's exit so that Kisuke could try his luck for a lieutenant of his own.

"What're you doing here?" her voice was a far cry from the coarse bark of the work day. Kisuke's fingers drove through her hair, and Hiyori's shoulders turned to stone.

"You're a very special woman, Hiyori."

"I ain't gonna marry you, bastard."

A wide, rolling chuckle emanated from him. The hairs on the back of her neck rose attentively as his hands continued to handle her locks. "Let me finish before you give me your answer. I am a man of science, so you'll forgive me for taking the scientific approach: I will give you the facts. And you can make the final decision."

Sunlight slanted through the window and turned her to solid gold. Kisuke's hands slipped to her shoulders.

"Before being a member of this division or that, I am a member of the Gotei 13. But as a captain, I must honor and respect my vice-captain. You are the type of person I can admire. Should _**you **_agree to honor and respect me—well, as much as one can hope for under the circumstances—I will be your captain before being a member of the Gotei 13."

"Yeah…?" Hiyori snorted lightly. "You're such a…such a wit. How can ya pledge yourself t'me when ya barely know the kind of girl I am?"

Kisuke exhaled, a lazy smile curling over his face. "The kind of girl that grows to love colleagues and superiors. The kind of girl that I would be proud to have by my side when walking into a captains' meeting, and the kind I would be grateful to have my back in battle. Your loyalty…"

"Is jus' one part of me. What makes ya think you can earn it? What makes ya think you can handle my moods? My freakin' _**temper. **_I'd think Shinji would warn off a moron like you…"

"The fact that he didn't; it tells you he trusts me to be the right choice for you, doesn't it?"

"Tells me he's a bigger moron than you fer sure."

Kisuke was sure about this. He guessed there was more depth to Hiyori's intelligence than met the eye. They didn't allow dumb fucks into the 12th Division; not like they did in the 5th. The truth behind him wanting Hiyori lay within his fascination of her rancid, dour, _**abrasive **_(that's quite enough adjectives thank you) personality that was so at odds with the usual calm façade 12th Divisioners had. Call it scientific curiosity. Call it the allure of a tough nut to crack.

"In any case, you're way too shady for me, Urahara. And like really freakin' lame."

Call it also the defensive need to bend her savage nature to show him some god damn well deserved _**gentleness. **_

He, against all common sense and concepts of professional boundaries, dropped his forehead against the nape of her neck. "What will I have to do for you to accept me…? Am I just not good enough?"

"No, yer not."

Kisuke lifted his head somewhat before letting it fall back. This was what Shinji had said…she was at her most malleable, her most tolerant. A Hiyori of brighter hours would have planted his head in the wall for touching her like this. "I am a stubborn man. I choose to take that as a challenge."

"Yer gonna lose."

"We shall see."

Her position was awkward. Not with the man at her back. In the division Kirio had left. New captains generally brought new lieutenants, but Urahara Kisuke had insisted there be no more disruptions to the chain of command. Hiyori too refused to step down as second seat (what else was a lieutenant?); she claimed for the sake of the rest of her supposedly beloved division that would become a mere corrupt front for the shit the new bastard was getting up to but really, really. She stayed in that position out of some round about attachment. Lieutenant was the position Kirio had assigned to her, and if Hiyori just…just stayed as she was then Kirio would come back. She'd hand this Kisuke guy his ass and send him packing and…and…

Ugh.

"Screw it. Alright, I'll be your lieutenant."

Kisuke was inclined to be generous and call her a hyper intelligent being whose thought patterns couldn't be followed by a mere genius like him, but he had a nagging suspicion the blame lay somewhere far less glamorous.

"Hiyori, are you…?"

"Yeah, yeah. Like I have a freakin' choice. Who knows what you'd do to the division without me to keep you in check."

This wasn't really the way he'd seen this scene playing out. Sarugaki Hiyori…was she always going to be the spanner in his works?

"You and that creepy rat bastard _**Mayuri **_would probably use all the members as guinea pigs."

Have I not mentioned? He'd dragged her along to the Maggots' Nest even without her cooperation. Such a pity undying devotion couldn't be forced the same way.

"I don't even know why you're botherin' with me. I'd say he's pretty willin' to be your lieutenant."

"The Commander General went through some amount of trouble to sanction my request for the research center. Kurotsuchi Mayuri's involvement is rather clandestine, I'm afraid."

"Fuckin' ace. So now I'm part of a conspiracy…"

"Only if you choose to be."

"Greedy excuse of a layabout captain whaddaya even need with two fukataichou, eh? Some men just can't be satisfied…"

The hair was up, the ties were in. The earnest captain waited anxiously for the verdict. It came swiftly in the form of a kick to the crotch that he knew would leave a purple bruise on the sole of her foot. Recalling Shinji's words _comforts her to cause pain_ he fell to his knees and cradled his penis through his robes, allowing boned agony to cross his face.

"Ow."

A smile sketched itself over her freckled face and she towered over him in her brilliant, minute glory.

"I'll be late reportin' for duty today. I got a walking, talking long-haired _**corpse **_to hunt down."

Without waiting for his reply she ran out in hot pursuit of unfortunate Shinji who in coming years would learn better than to side with Kisuke. For now the blond captain blinked after her. …Was she really worth it?

Hah.

Did he even have to ask?

Sarugaki Hiyori was his.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**I know I switched the tense in that third section—I felt it fit better than when I wrote it out in past tense. You can forgive me, can't you? **

**T.T I think this is my least favorite chapter. It just…feels all wrong. But I can't stand writing and rewriting it anymore…so please just take it. D: **


	9. Her and Him

**Exciting Proposal **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.**

**A/N: I found it in me to write Soifon and Marechiyo at last :D I did a good job, all things considered. I was poring over "Migration of the Animals" and the one way it failed to satisfy was Marechiyo's total lack of fear of his captain left unexplained. I mean how many men have the balls to yell at Soifon in pitched battle going, "You know the big guy! Why didn't you tell me?"**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

In the political upheaval over the vacuum left by Shihouin Yoruichi et al in Gotei 13, replacements were hastily procured.

That's just another way of saying Soifon _**did not want**_ the pristine haori of the captains' order that was thrown on her bony shoulders.

Because dammit, she wasn't fit to step into Yoruichi-sama's shoes! Yoruichi-sama never wore anything as tacky as shoes! Yoruichi-sama was svelte and smart and dangerous while Soifon…

Well, she was short. And she was angry.

(This was never a good combination.)

Soifon made rage an art form. She was as angry as a teenager with nothing to prove at the whole wide world. Yoruichi-sama ticked her off for not taking her (Soifon was hers! Her most loyal servant! How come Urahara-asshole got to go if Soifon couldn't?) and Yamamoto-soutaichou for making her a captain. She hated all the men in Soul Society for looking down at her (even if they were just looking and not in any particular direction) and she hated the women for not being as purr-fect as Yoruichi (ha-ha, pun. Some things could still make her dredge up a smile from the very bottom of her soul.)

Plus also she wanted to kick her lieutenant only she couldn't find one. This was totally unfair, especially since Soifon had promised herself she'd be the best superior ever. Not like Yoruichi who'd turned tail without so much as a perfunctory good-bye. She'd be a true professional: detached, efficient. She would never allow a subordinate to grow close to her; never allow herself the opportunity to break someone's heart.

Not that anyone had given her a heart to break.

(…!)

The first person she'd asked to be her fukataichou was Kuchiki Byakuya. No doubt it was the delirium, or the sun, or some revolutionary new fusion of the two. Soifon had been at the open-division training grounds thinking that no one could possibly be missing Yoruichi-sama as much as she did when without warning she'd had her eyes land on Byakuya-bo.

He was sparring the newest, youngest recruit from the Academy, Ichimaru Gin. Inherent talent fought inherited talent as the two boys tore up the grass with their boiling reiatsu. Byakuya pinned Gin to the ground, only to be pinned himself the next second. He'd use shunpo to appear at his opponent's throat; Gin would counter with his own blade at Byakuya's jugular. Soifon watched avidly, as did a few others who could stand the combatants' spiritual pressure.

Eventually, exhaustion got the better of both children and they broke apart in a grim (Byakuya), glib (Gin) acceptance of the draw. A blonde girl sprinted towards Gin to gush over his performance, and Byakuya looked enormously dissatisfied as Soifon approached him.

"Kuchiki-kun, will you be my lieutenant?"

It slipped out. She hadn't meant to be so straightforward. The brunette looked nervously on as the brunet undid his hair to do it up again. He wouldn't meet her eye.

"Soifon-san, you are kind. But I know why you asked and I want no part in it."

So maybe she'd expected him to turn her down but it wasn't in this snooty, knowing tone. She spoke, a little scathingly:

"No part of _**what, **_Kuchiki-kun? What ulterior motives could I possibly have to want to work with you?"

"You want to share your grief about Yoruichi." He met her eyes, and that threw her off enough to overlook the fact that this young sapling had addressed her liege so directly. "I'm sorry, Soifon-san, but I don't…I can't. She—I can't believe she ran away; I hate her for it. But I can't be your shoulder to—" he hesitated, not wholly man enough to accuse Soifon of tears. "To lean on. It's too much to ask."

Byakuya walked away then, because he had legs that worked and a place to go. Soifon, with a soul too heavy to move and nowhere to be, stood there for much longer than necessary.

000

Apparently even though he couldn't be her partner-in-mourning he was fine with keeping her company.

"Have you found a lieutenant yet?"

They made their way towards his home from an afternoon out on the streets in the dusty summer sun. The passersby gave her scowling face a wide berth. Soifon shook her head, her newly braided hair neat and attractive.

Byakuya had a faint aura of evil about him when he suggested, "I hear Kurotsuchi Mayuri _**made **_himself a lieutenant. Maybe you could ask for one as well?"

"Maybe after that I could lick Zaraki Kenpachi's feet."

He laughed, and she marveled at his ability to stay sane even after being abandoned by the goddess of flash. Didn't it cut him? Didn't he give a damn? Wasn't it just the biggest bitch to ever mar his life with angst? She never got to ask because the man whose feet she'd been talking about showed up.

"Eh?" Kenpachi towered audaciously over the two tiny people, "It's the new cap'n of th' 2nd Division." His hands were full of stuffed animals and sweet things that Yachiru had made him buy before falling asleep on his head (on his fucking head!) but if anything, they added to the psychopath look. Especially when his face lit up with a terrible, thirsty grin. "Maybe you and I should fight someday, girl!"

"The day we fight is the day you die," deadpanned Soifon, "Move aside, gorilla-face."

Byakuya made a face that said he agreed with her assessment of Kenpachi's features, and the mad-hatter captain refused to take the not-hint.

"Ah, if only. Anyway," he pulled a face of his own, "Yeh mus' be a mess inside. What with Shihouin-hime leavin' an' all. Prob'ly yeh'll cry if I fight ya now. Come find me when ya feel better, mkay?"

He patted her hair (her fucking hair!) as he went away, and obviously the sun and delirium were conspiring together again or Soifon should really get herself checked over for heatstroke because she yelled at his back, "Hey! Be my fukataichou!"

To which he replied, "I'm already a captain, smartass!" without even looking back. Soifon turned to Byakuya and said:

"He made me feel better."

Byakuya was disgusted.

000

She was sitting in her office without a vice-captain exploring all the ways she felt shitty including the way that meant she'd be taking a trip to the li'l captains' room fairly soon when he asked permission to come in.

"Omaeda Marechiyo, Soifon-taichou! Please allow me to enter!"

Soifon said something to the effect of yes, so he knelt in front of her and offered her some flowers.

"What." He could figure out the rest.

"I…ah, that is, I brought these, madam. In order to cheer you up."

A spike in her reiatsu told the fat motherfucker she needed no cheering up and he had better talk fast and talk well if he was going to make it out of this room with his head on.

"Ah, I'm the new transfer, madam—from the 8th Division. I thought I should bring you these flowers because surely you must be feeling painful and foolish after having the woman you love leave you for a man—urgh!"

Soifon's foot was abruptly on his neck (yes, on his fucking neck. Deal fucking with it) and he was on his back and Suzumebachi's stinger was on his cheek. Soifon felt a power rush go straight to her head as she thought of the ease with which she could extinguish his lousy life and she damn well _**should **_because it was this kind of despicable men that had driven Yoruichi out of Soul Society with their unacceptably flawed systems. She really, really should kill this scumbag…

"Captain…!"

That's what she said.

The part of her working itself up to a murderous rage crumbled to ashes. That was what Soifon had said when Yoruichi had disappeared with a flash of heartbreak in front of her own useless eyes. He'd said it in the same tone…desperate. Like losing your life.

She stepped off him to fall on her ass and start crying her eyes out.

Marechiyo was quite confused. He wasn't familiar with this captain and her story yet. The sempai that had so (too) warmly welcomed him into the division had handed him the pretty bouquet of sunflowers and hibiscus and told him that his first duty was to make a good impression on Soifon-taichou. The way she received him, though, gave him cause to suspect the sempai had made him the butt of some cruel inside joke.

Well. Petty politics aside. Neither Marechiyo's upbringing nor his common sense would allow him to stand by and watch a woman cry. He bravely scooted himself over to her and placed a compassionate hand on her back.

Soifon was furious.

Her anger had crossed all normal boundaries; it was exploring new vistas of unforgiving antipathy. It transcended words and actions and even other feelings in that she was too mad to rebuff the proximity of the obese, hideous berk comforting her.

Marechiyo held his position for a little under an hour. At first he listened to her sobs and felt her shoulder blades under his hand, like the remnants of great wings trapped under her skin, degenerating from want of freedom. Inevitably though, his thoughts turned to food. He had some sweet buns on him (a-haha, gentle reader, please do not think of it in that way). Surely the poor, ugly, bony captain tears-a-lot would like some? Crying probably took a lot out of this sad little personality.

"Captain, have a nibble."

He brandished the snack in front of her wet face and she swatted it away, glaring up at him through red, anguished eyes. He glared back, picking up the offering with a reverent hand.

"Mannerless…! You shouldn't throw food."

Soifon's anger dropped without warning and she struggled to make it spike at his presumptuous tone. There was no reason for her to not be mad but she suddenly found herself with a severe lack of will. Possibly her temper didn't consider him worth rising for. The brunette shrugged his arm off her shoulder and demanded, "Who are you to lecture me?"

Marechiyo looked gobsmacked as he pondered an answer. After a few seconds, he jubilantly returned, "I am someone _**with **_manners!"

She stared at him for a speechless second. "You ugly cow," Soifon snorted mirthlessly, and Marechiyo's vast forehead wrinkled with rancor.

"Better an ugly cow than an ugly twig, captain."

Who's gobsmacked now, biyatch?

Not for long, though, because Soifon plugged the drain in her Roman tub of boiling ire and Marechiyo had his back against the floor again, a seriously aggrieved stinger bug sitting on his chest.

"Subordinate, would you care to repeat yourself? I didn't quite catch that."

"Uh…uh…" Marechiyo's eyes followed the sharp sheathed finger she was waving lethally over his face. There was no need to be familiar with this captain's story to hear of how accomplished she was at assassination. "Um, sorry ma'am. I am of course an ugly cow."

Because damn it, life outweighed pride. Especially with Marechiyo. (Ohh, fat joke. Lynch me now!)

Soifon smiled. Against her expectations (and desires! What the shitty poo?) her Roman tub emptied itself all together. On his belly she felt saner than she had in weeks. She felt _**amused. **_She maintained her incensed façade beautifully, though.

"And what else, subordinate?"

The island of flesh under her groaned. "And you're the most attractive woman I've ever seen. Captain."

She let him loose, lilting loftily. "Don't get too attracted. I make it a point to not involve myself with those beneath my status."

"Or indeed outside your gender," noble Marechiyo muttered to himself. Soifon, not having heard, brooded. A victory forced was not a victory won. It irritated her to think that this tasteless bastard wouldn't find her appealing. It beggared belief. It was an insult to her ego. And so she lowered herself from her high hill to say unto him:

"Do you _**really **_think I'm a…twig?"

Marechiyo wasn't sure what she was playing at. "Is that a trick question?"

A smoky shock of annoyance disfigured her eyes until she understood what he was getting at. "I won't attack you," Soifon said shortly, "Give me the truth."

You can't handle the truth!

"Yes, captain, I do."

Told you so, babe.

Soifon, determined to prove how hip and cool she was with criticism, hitched a horrible contorted grin onto her thin mouth that prompted Marechiyo to skip back a step.

"What is it," he wanted to know.

Her horrible contorted grin grew worse. "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, eh?"

Yes, and madness in the folds of your brain, he wanted to say. But this captain was volatile enough without him needling her to the cliff's edge. Marechiyo tossed his head in a noncommittal gesture.

Soifon spoke again. "I see. You find me unattractive and I find you repugnant…"

Hey! For the record! Marechiyo was _**offended. **_But he was also too morbidly fascinated by what she was saying to interrupt her. Soifon's (let us give it a name) Zaraki-grin fell away piece by piece until cold contemplation filled her face. Marechiyo as the object of contemplation felt utterly naked, and then she brought her palms together, saying:

"It's decided, then! You will be my lieutenant. Won't you?" she added, the tiniest bit uncertain, having been rejected twice before.

As Marechiyo gaped, trying to follow her apparently haphazard train of thought, let us do some catching up ourselves!

Soifon had adored Yoruichi.

Adored/respected/looked up to/been intimidated by.

And how that had ended! Abject misery. Time can mend a broken heart, but it can't do much for a heart that's been ripped asunder, blown up, shat on, dragged through cat food and drowned in an ocean of tears. Now it was time for Soifon, holding this ravaged excuse for a heart in her hands, to wade through the tears and seek dry land. Everyone around her only offered warm showers of pity and fear, though.

Except this one guy.

What was his name again?

Whatever. He would work. He had the total lack of brain to call her ugly to her face. This kind of man would never appreciate Soifon's freezing subtlety no more than he could appreciate the breathtaking curve of her minute breast. As Soifon had been royally jacked by appreciating her boss, she was keen to not get along with her lieutenant.

What had she been thinking, asking Kuchiki Byakuya and (shudder on her behalf here) Zaraki Kenpachi? This guy was the best pick. Yes, this was a well-made, carefully considered decision—never mind that they'd only just met.

Marechiyo found his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, which was obviously the last place he'd thought to look.

"Then," he said, "Please take care of me, captain!" because this crazy bitch would be fucking awesome to get to know better, and would never ever steal food from him. "Yes, I accept!"

Soifon grinned at him for the first and last time. Marechiyo tucked it carefully away in a pocket of precious memories for later reference, just in case there was a splinter of beauty lodged in it. They sat in a patient sort of silence, wondering what a pair they'd make. Then Soifon went:

"Oh yeah. What's your name, again?"

…What a pair they'd make.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**I'm glad I decided to do this chapter. Of all the captains and their lieutenants the bond between these two is something I find strange and sweet. **


	10. Bucket and Shades

**Exciting Proposal **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.**

**A/N: Having not the use of Microsoft Word's spellcheck for this chapter I was forced to use a _dictionary _to look up the spelling of deodorant. I was so convinced there was a second e in there...shit, but how technology spoils us. -.- **

**Btw does anyone even remember Sasakibe Chojiro? I threw his name in here but when talking to my friend about him, the moron didn't recognize...anyway. He's Genryuusai's lieutenant. Okay? Okay.**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Iba Tetsuzaemon loved the 11th Division.

He loved the dojo that smelt forever of sweat and cheap deodorant, loved the evening free-for-all brawls held in the courtyard. He loved the mid-morning booze fests and the cocky attitude that was an occupational hazard of being part of Gotei 13's strongest division. Hell, he loved it all. It was epic. It was delightfully over the top. And he wanted to represent his division as the strongest, proudest fukataichou.

(Tetsuzaemon was well aware of his limits. To aim for the level of captain was foolhardy. He'd only embarrass himself.)

When Zaraki Kenpachi became captain and brought his custom-made pocket lieutenant with him, Tetsuzaemon was left in the lurch. And I mean **_the _**lurch. Becoming a lieutenant was his long-term dream, goal, aspiration...and the one thing the 11th Division couldn't give him. The 11th Division was his sanctuary, home, womb...and the only place where dreams couldn't be turned into reality.

Home vs. dreams, the ultimate showdown.

"Maybe I should look at postings in other divisions."

Madarame Ikkaku held a canteen of beer in his hand, slumped offhandedly against the dojo wall. He turned his head and frowned slightly at the brunet.

"Feeble joke, Iba-san."

Tetsuzaemon's face was impassive as he beat the hilt of his sword against the palm of his hand. "It's no joke, Madarame."

"Why would you want to leave our division?"

A self-effacing grunt issued from Tetsuzaemon's lips. "No scope for growth."

"No chance at becoming vice-captain, you mean." Ikkaku seemed unimpressed. "Iba-san, are you really the sort of man who can't handle even this sort of blow?"

The hairer shinigami stood. "Men who ask questions they already know the answers to," he said waspishly, "I hate them."

Ikkaku smirked. "As much as you hate men who evade questions they don't want to answer?"

Tetsuzaemon retorted with his zanpakutou; Ikkaku scrambled to his feet. Break time was over.

000

In Kyoraku Shunsui's humble opinion, Commander-General Yamamoto Genryuusai was a cruel man.

Sometimes.

If he and Ukitake Jyuushiro were brothers, Komamura Sajin who also loved Genryuusai as a father was a type of distant cousin. As he watched this cousin don the captain's haori for the first time, Shunsui had to admit. It had been nothing short of animal cruelty to offer him this exalted position.

Tell me, would **_you _**like to work with a man who spends his days hiding his face behind a mask that covers his whole head? I doubt it, I sincerely do. Shunsui did as well.

And it wasn't like a Kurotsuchi Mayuri case of bad sense...even with his toilet seat around his neck and the ludicrous face-paint you could see Mayuri's eyes. You could easily tell that here was a man who would cheerfully leave his subordinates to die for the scientific hell of it and act accordingly to avoid such a fate. Sajin with his bucket (a brown paper bag's sophisticated avatar) was the sinister unknown. Trusting someone whose eyes you couldn't see required leaps of faith that Sajin did not inspire.

How would he feel to have scrambled his way out of obscurity up here to the apex of influence, only to face the same humiliation of exclusion? How would he feel if (when) his proposal was turned down? Shunsui fretted. Sajin was **_so sensitive. _**With Kaname as a captain too, who was left to take on the challenge of being this man's vice?

"How do I look, Kyoraku?"

Shunsui thought. He looked like an inefficient ninja off to abduct a child. Telling him that would probably make him cry, so Shunsui chose to carefully avoid answering.

"I can't actually see you, Komamura," he teased, "You're all covered up."

If he had hoped the hint would get Sajin to undress some, he was in for a let-down. The foxy (uh.) captain hadn't taken off his mask for Genryuusai himself. Shunsui never stood a chance.

"That's the point," Sajiin said, and exited his chambers with a deep sigh.

000

Like I said, who can trust a man whose eyes can't be seen? Someone like Kaname, who couldn't see at all. Someone like Genryuusai, who saw without ever opening his eyes. Someone like Jyuushiro, who saw trustworthiness in everyone, or Shunsui, who looked beyond what he saw.

Finally, someone like Tetsuzaemon, who hid his eyes as well.

Yumichika nagged.

"Iba-san, is what Ikkaku told me true? You're thinking of quitting the 11th? Che, how unprepossessing!"

He and Ikkaku walked behind the man with the shady shades, on a routine patrol through a few of the rowdier Rukongai districts. Tetsuzaemon rattled his sword in its scabbard menacingly at a clot of filthy thugs, who dissolved with ugly glares at the trio of shinigami encroaching upon their territory.

"You can take that uppity silence as a resounding 'yes', Yumi," Ikkaku drawled, "Iba-san wants to ditch us."

"Iba-san!" Yumichika exclaimed loudly. Several passersby looked nervously over their shoulders. "Say something. Your silence is hideous."

The sun, shining white-hot, slipped out from behind some clouds. Yumichika, fearing for his flawless complexion, ducked into Tetsuzaemon's shadow. Ikkaku smeared some sunscreen on his glittering pate and needled his colleague some more.

"I hope you _**do **_leave. Clear my path to third seat, mm."

Slouching as he walked, Yumichka said, "Don't be so unkind, Ikkaku. We know you'll miss sparring with him if he goes."

"When he goes."

"Iba-san, you haven't decided to go? You're only considering it, aren't you?" demanded Yumichika. Tetsuzaemon was stoically, unnaturally taciturn. Ikkaku scoffed.

"If you're thinking of talking him out of it, forget it." There was wounded pride in his words. "Iba-san made up his mind without telling any of us. I just wanna be there when he hands his transfer documents to Kusajishi-fukataichou. Can you imagine what she'll do?"

Tetsuzaemon tried. A pink haired terror loomed in his mind's eye, spitting and kicking and wailing for him to stay until Zaraki Kenpachi took hold of his neck and snapped it for distressing the girl who was at times the daughter he never had and at times the best friend he could never make. He shuddered.

Yumichika persisted.

"Iba-san you can't be serious!"

At this point Tetsuzaemon broke and snapped, "I can and I am. I'm looking to become a vice-captain in whatever division will have me."

Yumichika fell into a hideous, reproachful silence of his own and Ikkaku's face tightened drastically.

"Right," he said, "Let's split up and finish this patrol as fast as we can."

The gossip mills began to hum with life.

000

The tale of Iba Tetsuzaemon wishing to leave Kenpachi's ranks was considerably distorted by the time it reached Kyoraku Shunsui's ears, but it was still intelligible.

He sat with his youthful vice-captain Ise Nanao and pondered.

Sajin, due to what Shunsui shrewdly suspected was a fear of rejection, had still not asked anyone to be his lieutenant. The strain of managing an entire division by his lonesome wasn't showing yet, but what would Shunsui know of the expression behind that mask? Yamamoto-soutaichou had appointed him and Jyuushiro as the unofficial overseers of Sajin's fresh career, and both of them knew that their...cousin...needed help. Quickly.

Many saw Tetsuzaemon as ruthlessly ambitious for jettisoning his division when it couldn't satisfy his wants, but Shunsui with his special eyes thought him brave. They were fiercely loyal in the 11th, and brutal to those they saw as turncoats.

"Nanao-chan," he asked, "Would it be ethical of me to throw these two together?"

The pretty (intelligent, efficient, dependable, prodigious) girl looked at him over her glasses. "Some would say you were meddling, yes," Nanao said slowly, "It's true that it might be better for Komamura-taichou to do it of his own will. I believe, however, that you are not so much forcing a mismatch as you are nudging each towards his obvious destination. You should get Ukitake-taichou's opinion on the matter."

Since no matter what she said he'd end up doing as he liked, she'd taken to telling him what she thought he wanted to do. She was usually bang on.

Shunsui smiled competently at her.

"What a clever woman you are, Nanao-chan."

000

Jyuushiro's tea parties were calm, loving meditations on nature. He usually arranged them in one of 13th Division's multiple Zen gardens, and occasionally he and Sasakibe Chojiro persuaded the Commander-General to let them utilize the 1st Division's grounds. Invitations were sent out to all seated shinigami in Seireitei, but no one without direct relations to Jyuushiro were presumptuous enough to attend often. Unohana Retsu was one of the few permanent guests; predictably her lieutenant, Kotetsu Isane, came frequently. Others like Zaraki Kenpachi and Soifon skipped regularly and unapologetically. Shunsui was obligated to attend, while Genryuusai dropped in briefly from time to time. The 8th Division captain tonight offered to escort Sajin, for whom this was the first time.

"Becoming a captain without ever having held a seat, I must look quite the fool, eh Kyoraku?"

"Good grief, unwind. There won't be a soul at that party thinking lowly of you." Shunsui tugged his kimono this way and that, preening vainly in front of the full length mirror Komamura rarely used. "Everyone knows old man Yama holds you in high regard."

"Yes," Sajin said with a dollop of melancholy. It struck Shunsui that no matter how grateful, a man would like to be accepted for who he is, not who his patron is. "All the same, I wish Tousen were coming."

Kaname had pled out of the evening's events, citing unavoidable paperwork. Shunsui wondered about that. How hard was it to delegate to the lieutenant for a night, so as to ease Sajin's nerves and be at his side?

"On the bright side," the rookie captain perked up slightly, "I hear Ichimaru's not coming either. I never liked that one, and neither does Tousen."

"Mm," sighed Shunsui, "It'll be quiet this time. Sousuke's skipping too."

(Yes, because they were all three of them attending a rather special party in Heuco Mundo. Barragan was to have some entertainment tonight.)

The thought of a short guest list sustained Sajin all the way to the venue. The coy winter evening lay white and waiting over Jyuushiro's favorite garden, covering the evergreen shrubs with snowy quilts. A frozen brook was traversed by several charming bridges, and a half dozen people lounged around a low brazier under a cozy pavillion. It was hung with gauzy curtains. Two unseated shinigami scurried forth to take Shunsui and Sajin's umbrellas; Jyuushiro rose gracefully to greet them.

"Kyoraku, Komamura!" he beamed, "We've been waiting breathlessly."

It was only the polite thing to say to latecomers. Shunsui fluttered his fan to hide the flush that didn't appear on his cheeks while Sajin inclined his head in apologetic thanks.

Soifon said, "Hah!" and rudely downed her tea without waiting for them to sit. Her new vice-captain sighed exasperatedly (exaggeratedly) as he refilled her cup.

Jyuushiro and Shunsui exchanged secretive glances. The guest list was one slightly manipulated by them until they had the people most likely to work as catalysts to bring Tetsuzaemon and Sajin together. Nanao had called in a favor from fellow Shinigami Women's Association member Matsumoto Rangiku, who was good with men. While Nanao had failed to show, saying she couldn't face the cold tonight, Rangiku had invited her sometimes drinking partner Iba Tetsuzaemon along. With great difficulty Jyuushiro had persuaded the newly bonded Soifon and Omaeda Marechiyo to show themselves. Unohana Retsu was here to offset everyone else, a reliable head in time of crisis that they hadn't been able to rid themselves of.

"Captain," Marechiyo said, "Please wait for Komamura-taichou and Kyoraku-taichou to seat themselves."

Soifon said "Hah!" again and reached for her cup; Marechiyo speedily moved it away from her. Looking only half annoyed with twitching lips, she contented herself with shooting a question at Rangiku's date.

"You're looking to leave your division, aren't you?"

Rangiku halted her conversation with Tetsuzaemon so he could proffer a wary reply: "Yes, ma'am."

"Lovely," snorted the unlovely brunette, "And I thought loyalty was your people's redeeming trait."

Tetsuzaemon mouth tightened as if she'd slapped him. Soifon turned her malicious eyes on the rest of the company. No one was thick enough to meet her basilisk stare; Retsu parted the curtains of the pavillion with one hand to look away as she sipped from her porcelain cup. Sajin, as Shunsui hoped he would, spoke out of sheer irritation at the tiny female's gigantic attitude.

"Before pointing fingers, you should make sure your hands are clean. At least the 11th Division, as far back as I can remember, has never had a **_captain_** abandon it."

A coil of emotion drew Soifon's scorpion features closer together. Marechiyo spoke up for his new boss. "Komamura-taichou, with all due respect...you're being insensitive. Soifon-taichou is your senior, and you should watch what you say to her. In any case, Iba-san can defend himself, if he chooses to."

Oh, now it was two against one and Sajin had never learnt how to play this way. An upwards tilt to his bucket head signified him raising his face to seek assistance, but no one seemed to comprehend the gesture but Tetsuzaemon.

"Omaeda-san," he said, "Your devotion to Soifon-taichou is admirable...more so, apparently, than mine to my division. But think: I, unlike you, know my position and accept criticism from those above my station."

Sajin silently thanked his rescuer with a clenching of the fist, thinking that unlike the rest of his boorish compatriots, this 11th Divisioner seemed to realize fights would be won by words as well as swords.

Soifon leapt back into the fray. "So," she huffed, "You're saying he should sit back and let me be put down," she shot Sajin a hot, malevolent glare, "By a beast?"

Tetsuzaemon didn't get it, but Jyuushiro and Shunsui stirred uneasily. He gathered that the insult dug deep by observing Sajin's sudden and complete stillness. None of the assembled apart from the soutaichou's three foster sons knew what lay under the big man's mask and those three forgave Soifon's inadvertant infringement of the taboo. Tetsuzaemon, however, sympathized with the captain who had a mute face.

"Ma'am," he began to say unkindly, intending to step over all boundaries of politesse to deliver a snappy comeback that would blow her back to hell. Retsu with her placatory voice destroyed his plan.

"That's enough, I think."

They all turned to her, this soft eyed captain with her Russian doll layers of lovingly dressed fright. Sajin's shoulders went mercifully slack as attention drifted away from him. Tetsuzaemon saw.

"Soifon-san, I don't know what Ukitake-kun was thinking to ask you here. You've obviously had a rough week, what with training your new vice and such...you shouldn't be forced to endure avoidable late nights."

The not-statuesque brunette accepted her dismissal with a grateful grunt. As she stood, Marechiyo made to stand up with. Soifon gave him such an eloquent, warning look that he sank back down and struck up talks with Rangiku, who thus far had appeared modestly embarrassed by the proceedings. Sajin, with a twinge, felt envious of their united front.

Retsu wasn't done.

"Well! Disagreements warm the air considerably, don't they? I feel like taking a walk. Komamura-san, will you accompany me?"

Sajin spoke a gracious yes, and Retsu said, "Iba-san, would you like to come as well?"

The square-jawed hunk didn't think Rangiku would mind, she was such a great girl and laughing so gleefully at something Marechiyo was saying. He sought Jyuushiro's eye, but he and Shunsui deliberately discussed in low, private tones a matter the 11th Division officer was not involved in. He raised his eyes to Retsu's warm invitation and more importantly, Sajin's dauntless mask. It was impossible to be sure and he thought himself arrogant for thinking it, but Tetsuzaemon got the impression that the captain was looking specifically, intently, at him. Wanting him to accept.

"I'd like that, ma'am." And nervously touching his sunglasses (pretentious at night, but indispensable nonetheless), Kenpachi's man stepped into Sajin's shadow.

On Retsu's whim they crossed the bridges over the brook, zig-zagging their way through the cold, pleasant garden. The woman hummed under her breath and distanced herself from them. Falling a few steps behind, Tetsuzaemon and Sajin watched her back.

"She's something, isn't she?" the former asked appreciatively. Sajin whose thoughts had lingered on disputatious Soifon was taken aback until he added, "Unohana-taichou."

"Oh," Sajin had never owned a conventional sense of esthetics, "Yes. Beautiful."

Tetsuzaemon looked up at him, picking out the apathetic tone if not the neutral expression. "That's not what I meant, sir. There's something about her...the way Soifon-taichou obeyed her so calmly! I admire that."

Thoughtlessly, carelessly, Sajin said, "I didn't think a member of the 11th Division could admire anything but brute strength."

Tetsuzaemon replied cuttingly. "Are you implying, captain, that I ought to be admiring you?"

Retsu moved on as the two men came to a total halt of shame and regret. Sajin was still once again and Tetsuzaemon faced him to bow.

"My apologies. Captain, it's just that...I've come to realize." Bitterness burnt his grinding tones to a crisp. "No one in my division will ever forgive me my decision." He straightened, and despite not seeing his face he looked Sajin in the eyes. The slits in his mask felt like gaping windows to the furry captain as the brunet continued. "Becoming a lieutenant is my dream and if I wanted to achieve that in the 11th Division I would at some point end up waiting for Kusajishi-fukataichou to die. I do not want to be that kind of man, captain."

Sajin twitched, drawn in.

"I would much rather have everyone else hate me than hate myself."

Drawn to this man, gravitating towards his intensity and his words...Sajin remembered feeling this way before: once with Yamamoto Genryuusai and twice with Tousen Kaname. Iba Tetsuzaemon appeared to be number three. Sajin felt the grip of possibility swaying on his shoulder like a fat pigeon. And still Tetsuzaemon talked.

"I suppose I will have to accept my fate. There is no one to forgive me. Support me. I am alone."

Unohana Retsu stopped just around the bend in the brook to observe an iced tree. Sajin could see scraps of her kimono through the unrobed branches. He could see something else, too. He saw himself walking through the offices of Division Seven with Tetsuzaemon right behind him.

"You are not alone, Iba."

The night shifted smoothly at his words, a breeze spinning eddies in the snow.

"Iba, we talked against Soifon and her lieutenant together. Iba, I will support you. If you are my vice-captain, I will support you for the rest of our lives."

There had been marriage proposals less romantic than this, and they both knew it. Iba Tetsuzaemon laughed, and Sajin's heart lurched. He needn't have worried, though.

"Komamura-taichou, I accept your generous offer. And...I know you have heard rumors that it doesn't matter to me who my captain is, as long as I am second to that person only. I admit, I would have agreed to be the vice of any division."

But...?

"I am very glad it's you who asked me, though." Tetsuzaemon's voice carried not a hint of insincerity. "You are a man I can respect."

"Even if you can't see what you're respecting?"

"There is nothing your face says, sir," Tetsuzaemon dismissed, "That your body and voice do not repeat."

"I see."

"Yes."

They grinned at each other. Bucket to shades.

Unohana Retsu began to walk back towards the pavillion by herself.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**I'm going to celebrate this unusually long chapter with an Orihime-worthy mix of bananas and salt biscuits. Mm. **


	11. Braid and Beads

**Exciting Proposal **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.**

**A/N: I started writing this chapter a while back, left it for dead because I figured it was obvious how Isane and Retsu would end up together, and didn't want to continue unless I had a not so obvious plot device. Obviously the fact that I'm posting this chapter means I found one, and for obvious reasons I hope you enjoy it. **

**Duh.**

**As for Retsu being an insomniac. Why the hell not? I've never seen her sleeping. **

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

The insomniac met the nightmare girl under perfectly normal circumstances. A routine introduction into the 4th Division involved the new recruits being inspected by the captain. Isane was too preoccupied with nailing the perfect bow and Retsu was observing a twitchy young man a few bent backs over. They paid more attention to each other later that night, when Retsu was walking past the barracks and Isane stumbled out, gasping:

"W-white! My love! My love!"

"Nightmares, new recruit?"

Sure she was the greatest healer Seireitei had ever seen but there were three things Retsu couldn't fix: bad dreams, sleeplessness, and Ukitake Jyuushiro's tubercu-fucking-losis. Damn them. Refusing to quail for Retsu? The nerve.

"Ah...yes, ma'am. Sorry to have disturbed the peace."

"It's hardly your fault, is it? Don't look so frightened, you'll make me feel bad. Do you know, tea helps?"

Isane raised baggy eyes to Retsu's pleasant face. "Really?"

"Yes, I've often used it to soothe my mind on lonely nights." The subordinate wondered just how lonely Retsu must've felt to extend this offer to a rookie. "Would you join me?"

So they kept each other company, because Isane wasn't fond of waking up in cold sweats and warm screams, and because Retsu could only stalk Seireitei's nocturnal streets for so long without being bored to her second death.

"Is the tea to your liking, new recruit?"

Isane sipped. They sat on the porch in front of Retsu's chambers, watching the dark garden that was so chillingly silver when bathed in moonlight. The tea was bitter and rousing on her tongue. "My name is Kotetsu Isane, ma'am. And the tea is fine."

Retsu studied her with unguarded eyes, assuming that the young woman would be too intimidated to study back.

She assumed wrongly. Isane looked frankly back, trying to see something so intently that Retsu's concentrated perusal of **_her _**face broke.

"What is it, Kotetsu-san?"

Isane started and turned away. Her captain **_did _**intimidate her, but not in the way she seemed to intimidate everyone else. Retsu's fair mask was tightly woven and no hint of her power ever shone through except for the odd, terrifying smile. Isane who looked into her eyes, though, found fascinating stuff in them.

"Nothing, ma'am. Sorry for staring."

"Sorry for staring, too." Isane snapped her gaze back to Retsu, who was smiling as gently as ever. "My name is Unohana Retsu. Nice to meet you, Kotetsu-san."

"Please, ma'am, call me Isane." Well it felt strange to be given respect by a woman so far above her. Especially with Isane calling her ma'am and not even -taichou.

Retsu was taken aback. She couldn't really recall being asked to address someone familiarly before. A moment of deliberation, and she decided she liked the sweet thing before her.

"As you wish, Isane."

Wordlessness. Calm. Comfort.

"Isane..." Retsu was watching the sky. "Have you ever seen Kamo River by moonshine?"

"Um, no. Ma'am."

"Would you like for me to show you?"

How thrilling! Yes, please.

"Ma'am..." Isane's good sense held her back. "It's an early day tomorrow. Orientation."

Retsu nodded. "I forgot. Tomorrow night, perhaps?"

A continuation of this encounter? Isane wasn't expecting...

"Yes, ma'am."

The brunette laughed softly. "You should sound more enthusiastic, or I'll just feel like I'm dragging you along for a ride you don't like."

The sweetheart grinned bashfully. "Yes, ma'am. I'd love to go with you!"

The next night Isane dreamt of a crow eating a baby girl and Retsu drowning in stardust and woke up hollering for a fireman. Her roommate threw a pillow at her and her captain's reiatsu pulsed beyond the closed doors, waiting.

"Your nightmares have impeccable timing, Isane."

"Better than investing in an alarm clock...I only feel bad for Miu-chan, my roomie. She's forced to put up with me."

Retsu took her arm and led her to Seireitei's gates. Yamamoto Genryuusai had long since comissioned a convenient kido key for the woman's use, because of her restless excursions. They walked out easily and found the glittering river under a gibbous moon.

"Enchanting," Isane murmured, crouching at the bank to scoop some water into her palms. Retsu stood a few paces behind and was pleased with her reaction. Appreciative, not overawed.

"Look at the way it flows."

Isane looked. Strands of water twined together in a striking image, white and black under the white and black sky.

"It looks like your braid, ma'am." Isane turned to smile, and Retsu walked to stand beside her.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Isane reached a wet, unthinking hand to the woman's hair. "Very much, ma'am."

Retsu's face was impassive, but her eyes were unguarded again. She put her hand on the girl's head, and for a second they stayed that way. The boss released a long sigh.

"Isane, please call me Retsu-san."

The sort of casual camaraderie that grew between two people sharing lonely wakefulness was alarming. It transcended social boundaries. It transcended captain-subordinate relations. Retsu dropped her strolls in favor of staking out the grey-haired girl's room. She was casual, in her formal way: her smile was kind instead of polite, her eyes lingered unabashedly on Isane's famliliar face. At night they became people quite removed from their diurnal roles.

It was unfortunate.

After all their diurnal roles were not to be taken lightly.

000

"Retsu-san! Good morning to you!"

A sort of stunned silence washed over 4th Division headquarters where no one spoke to Unohana Retsu unless spoken to. Isane stood bravely, **_happily _**(willingly!) in front of her captain and beamed.

Retsu. Beamed. Back.

"Good morning, Isane. How are you?"

"I'm okay," the girl replied, falling easily into step with the brunette as she walked past her boggling colleagues, "Actually I'm going down to Earth today for soul burial duty! Wish me luck, Retsu-san!"

Several members pinched themselves. They hadn't misheard. Kotetsu Isane was referring to her captain just like that. **_Retsu-san. _**No surname or anything. Holy shit! What the hell.

"Good luck, Isane. Please make it back home safely." Retsu smiled. "I'll be looking forward to it."

Everyone was straining their ears to catch the conversation now. They didn't have to strain too hard. The word 'it' fanned the flames of throbbing curiosity. What did Retsu mean, 'it'? Isane's return? Or something more...intimate? Of course there was one 'it' that everyone thought of but no way the straight-laced captain would mean **_that _**'it', not in public, not with the rookie girl.

Isane went pink, and said, "Yes. Me too, Retsu-san," and a whole bunch of people reconsidered. Maybe the captain **_did _**refer to that 'it' so boldly precisely because no one would suspect her of it. It would certainly be a brilliant piece of thinking to do so and who but Unohana Retsu could think brilliantly?

If it was that 'it'...

The scandal! The intrigue!

The juicy meat of gossip.

000

Isane returned and Kiyone rejoiced.

"Hey! Hey! Onee-chan! Is it true, is it?"

Kotsubaki Sentarou crossed his arms and waited for his partner to extract some answers. Isane didn't get it.

"Is what true, Kiyone-chan?"

Jyuushiro's blonde fangirl pouted and fanned herself. "Duh! About you and Unohana-taichou! Are you two really...?"

Isane was tired. She had had a hell of a time on Earth and she wanted a bath, some food, and a long date with her bed. An interrogation by her little sister as soon as she stepped past the wooden gates of Seireitei was not on the schedule. Understandably, she was curt.

"Are we really _**what, **_Kiyone?"

Kiyone stared at her sister and raised a pinky. "That."

Isane stared at her sister and grasped her pinky. "...That?"

Sentarou sighed. "Are you and Unohana-taichou dating?"

"What? No!"

Kiyone said, "Are you sure?"

Isane said, "Shut up."

Sentarou said, "Surely you can tell your sister, Kotetsu-san..."

Isane threw the thing closest to her hand. It was a glass vase.

000

"Unohana-taichou!" Yamada Hanataro was such a cute little thing, "Um, hello. Good afternoon. I wonder, ma'am. What's the protocol for provoked attack on fellow shinigami resulting in minor injury?"

The brunette took a second to finish binding Zaraki Kenpachi's bandages. The jerk said, "Why don't you let the other ones do it? They're too tight. You suck." And Retsu smiled sweetly before saying:

"Another three days in the infirmary, I think. Your wounds are quite horrific."

Allowing Kenpachi time to curse his luck and learn his lesson, the oldest female captain turned to her young subordinate. "After tending to their injuries we must report to the captains concerned. And also send a copy of the medical reports to Yamamoto-soutaichou...who is it?" Her dainty eyes danced over Kenpachi. "11th Division?"

"Actually, Unohana-taichou," Hantarou picked at his sleeve nervously, in the presence of two of the scariest captains he'd ever imagined, "It's 13th."

No change in Retsu's face occured at the indirect mention of the man who was the bane of her medical existance. But had Isane been around, she'd have seen disgruntled shame in her eyes. Like reading a book!

"Oh?"

"And, um. Also the 4th."

Kenpachi laughed crudely, and Retsu said, "Zaraki-taichou, you're discharged."

"Aw hell no. My wounds are horrific, ain't they?"

If Retsu ever scowled, she might have done so now. "Yamada-san...are you quite sure?"

"Yes, captain! It's...it's Kotetsu Isane-san."

Kenpachi laughed again, and Retsu lost her cool. Turning swiftly she jabbed him with a needle at the nape of his neck. He fell back paralyzed on his bed.

"What do you mean, it's Isane?"

Hantarou wished wildly to be away from here. "She's the one that attacked, ma'am. She, er, threw an object that shattered against Kotsubaki Sentarou and Kotetsu Kiyone's arms. A few scratches..."

Poor boy, he needn't have taken the time to explain. Retsu was swishing out of his sight already, needing an explanation from her friend.

(Friend?)

Retsu froze.

(Oho, so Kotetsu Isane was a **_friend._**)

Retsu frowned.

(What a lovely, lovely feeling sneaking up in her chest.)

Retsu clutched one hand in the other and forced a sigh past her own pretty lips.

(Ha-ha, it feels like acceptance. Isane, a friend~)

Retsu told herself, that's quite enough of that, and yanked open the door to the ward where casualties were attended to.

"Ukitake-taichou sent the fruit basket for **_me_**!"

"Why would he send it to you? I'm plainly the worse off candidate here."

"Yeah right, Kotsubaki, you just have a few scratches. Compared to my trauma...hey. Hey! It's Unohana-taichou!"

Sentarou said, "Right, like I'd fall for that one."

Retsu said, "Ahem, may I ask a few questions?"

000

A group of girls walked towards the bathhouse, jabbering excitedly.

"I swear it's true! Kotetsu and Unohana-taichou. No doubt about it."

"But how can you **_tell_**?"

"I'm her roommate! She has nightmares and screams; I wake up every time. Well with a voice like that who wouldn't? And Kotetsu goes out, I feel captain's reiatsu when she opens the door...and then they're gone for most of the night. What else could they be up to?"

"What a slut! Seducing the captain. Some girls would do **_anything _**to get ahead, huh?"

"You can say that again!"

"But in a way its romantic...forbidden fruit, you know?"

"I guess. I mean it'd be sweet if they fell in love; if Kotetsu's not just using her captain..."

"It probably runs in the family. You know how obsessed the younger sister is with Ukitake-taichou?"

"Oh so am I, doesn't mean I sleep with him. He has the sweetest face."

"And the hottest bod?"

"Well if we're going there I'd actually vote for Kuchiki-taichou."

000

Isane was walking along a thin, tapering branch. Beneath her stretched a white abyss of foggy fear. When she looked back there was nothing, when she looked ahead there was nothing. A shrill cry pierced the whiteness, and Isane fell off her branch which was really a rope that wrapped itself around her legs and she fell and fell and fell.

Unohana Retsu caught her in her arms and held her close to her heart. Isane was safe, at least until Retsu began to crack into a thousand splinters, dropping her...

"Don't let go!"

Miu slurred, "Gosh Kotetsu, I wish for once you'd scream to youurself."

Isane apologized and untangled herself from the sheets. Padding outside into the cold air, she steadied herself with deep breaths and waited for Retsu's voice to beckon her.

It didn't happen.

She turned around and said, "Retsu-san?"

No one answered.

No one was there.

Feeling slightly panicky, Isane ran on silent, socked feet to Retsu's chambers. She peered through the window and her eyes went wide with surprise. Retsu was **_sleeping. _**Hmm? Sleeping. Like a doll of the frailest kind. The young girl exhaled relief and amusement. Her captain was angelic. She let herself in and knelt next to Retsu's futon, watching her slumbering form. Retsu was on her side, one arm bent with a palm as a pillow, and the other draped gracefully over her hip. Her legs were curled up too, and her loose hair took up a lot more space than Isane had imagined.

She reached out with a dry, unthinking hand and stroked the dark tresses.

Retsu didn't open her eyes. "I'm sorry, Isane. Every now and then reality catches up with my body...and sleep overcomes."

"Retsu-san, do you really think I'd hold this against you?" Isane smiled. "If you don't mind, may I spend the night here?"

Retsu nodded drowzily, and Isane knelt some more.

The morning was somewhat strange. Somehow it had ended up being Isane sprawled on Retsu's futon, with the captain's arms holding her (like the nightmarish dream!) and her lips crazy close and her breath heady sweet (even. In. The morning) and so, so **_nice._**

But wasn't this what Kiyone had been afraid of?

"Unohana-taichou..."

Retsu opened the saddest eyes Isane had ever seen her wear, and she realized what she'd said.

"I mean, Retsu-san!"

"No," Retsu sighed, "I think you're right. It ought to be Unohana-taichou."

"...Retsu-san!" Isane jerked away and sat up. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Isane. You've heard the rumors. Don't you think it's best for us to stay apart now, if this is how people will interpret our friendship?"

Retsu was still lying down, looking up at her subordinate through sleep studded eyes. Early morning light sprinkled through the windows and brought a cuckoo's cantankerous call into the room. Isane put her hands together and said, "Please."

"Please...what?"

The grey haired girl tugged at her clothes. "Captain, your friendship is a rare and precious thing. I value it. Don't take it away from me."

Retsu sat up slowly, knowing exactly what she was doing. "How much do you value it?"

Isane raised her eyes. "Eh?"

"What price would you pay to keep it? Would you bear the ostracized status of a woman who moves closely with her superiors? Will you tolerate the incessant attention to our relationship people who shouldn't care pay? Is it alright by you to have your talent overlooked and any reward you recieve be attributed to your special place in my heart? Isane. Am I worth it?"

Yes. By golly, yes. Retsu was worth all that and more. Retsu was her friend. Isane thought it might not be healthy this way, but she didn't think she could be happy if it wasn't this way.

"Retsu-san, you are. You really, really are."

The brunette smiled like a jasmine vine's blooming petals. "How dear. Then, I suppose there's only one thing left to do." She rose up and beckoned her companion to do the same. Clasping the girl's hands in her own, she somberly said, "Kotetsu Isane, please become my vice-captain."

Hah!

What reason would they have to begrudge them their closeness then?

A captain and her lieutenant can spend hours together and no one would think anything of it.

And for the sake of that perk, Isane would take the job.

"Captain...!"

"In the public eye, I will be Unohana-taichou to you. In private, please call me Retsu-san. As always."

"Captain...!"

"Is this agreeable to you, Isane?"

"Captain...!"

Very eloquent.

"Yes, Isane?"

"I accept."

"Of course, Isane."

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Canizzaro!**


	12. Sweet Guy and Sour Face

**Exciting Proposal **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.**

**A/N: So many supporting characters! Oh wait, I used more for Tetsuzaemon and Sajin. :D **

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

While some lieutenants were ripe for the promoting, others had to be cajoled. Luckily for Jyuushiro, everyone agreed Kaien was being a moron.

"Onii-san, I don't get."

Kukaaku not getting it was a fairly common occurance, so Kaien concentrated on patching up baby Ganju's nappy, his back to his little sister.

"Mm-hmm?"

"Why won't you become Ukitake-san's vice captain? I thought you liked him!"

Yoruichi broke the surface of the pristine mountain pool she, Kukaaku and Kisuke were wallowing in. Kuchiki Byakuya sat close by on a flat rock, eyeing the wet woman balefully.

"Demon cat, how can you stand the cold water this early in the year?"

"Worried for my health, Byakuya-bo? Why don't you get in here and warm me."

Kisuke dunked her head back under to save her from the stone he threw and Kukaaku laughed unkindly.

"Ganju can aim better."

"My aim is perfect! Blame **_him_**," Byakuya jerked his chin at Kisuke, "For moving her."

Kisuke said, "Take a deep breath."

Byakuya said, "Huh?"

Yoruichi resurfaced next to him, encircled his waist with her arms, and pulled him into the pool with an understated splash. Soifon standing a demure distance from them twitched displeasurably.

"Serve him right," Kukaaku said with no little satisfaction, "Onii-san, tell me. Why won't you be Ukitake-san's vice-captain?"

Kaien cradled Ganju in his arms and frowned at her. He was deeply regretting giving in to Kukaaku's whim this morning when she felt like going for a spot of skinny-dipping. A family outing indeed. They'd met Kisuke on his way to their house; Kukaaku had invited him to join. Once they'd reached the pool and done a lap, Yoruichi had shown up. Byakuya's hair tie had been in her hands and the boy himself close behind. Screaming with delight the purple haired pretty had leapt in between her two best friends. Soifon had, of course, been tailing her mistress and despite repeatedly being asked refused to enter the water. Kaien with the baby kept her company.

Byakuya and Yoruichi emerged: the former gasping for air and the latter sporting a fine grin. By the looks of it she'd worn him down out of sight; he was exhausted enough to float sulkily against her.

Snickering at his plight, Kaien spoke to his sister. "I told you already. There are plenty of other, more suitable candidates."

"But," Kisuke pointed out, "Ukitake-san wants you."

"Yeah," Kukaaku smirked, "He might get angry if you go on turning him down like this."

Even Soifon's lips wobbled at the preposterous idea of Ukitake Jyuushiro displaying signs of bad temper. Byakuya broke free of Yoruichi's grip and stalked heavily to dry land.

"You're sawing off the branch you're sitting on," he warned, "You're gnawing the hand that feeds you. He might not get angry, but you're hurting his feelings. Barbarian," he added, though it wasn't clear if he was telling off Kaien or Yoruichi, who flicked water at him.

"I can freakin' tell if I'm pissing my own sempai off," Kaien said crossly, "He's taking it well."

"So it seems," Byakuya was haughty about the ears as he shook a hand through his dripping hair, "Only because you are stupid enough to believe him when he tells you he's alright."

"You impudent little wretch."

"Byakuya-kun is correct," Kisuke overruled, "Kaien-san, you must be breaking his heart."

"I can only imagine," bemoaned Yoruichi, "How terrible he must be feeling."

"Look, you weedy punks..."

"Onii-san, you're such a jerk." Kukaaku rose out of the water as she condemned him. "And stop giving us 'there are better candidates'. What's your real reason?"

"That **_is _**my real reason."

Stubborn as a mule.

"Swear on Ganju," demanded Kukaaku.

"This is stupid," Kaien dodged, "I'm not going to sit around discussing my career with a buncha kids."

"Yoruichi and I are captains," Kisuke said calmly, "Hardly children any longer."

"Always will be t'me," the brunet snorted. Wrapping up his baby brother in a blanket, he stalked away on annoyed legs. Byakuya's rancidly eloquent eyes passed disparaging comment, and Kukaaku threw him in the pool for it. Yoruichi, at least, was happy with that.

000

Ground control to major Tom...

Commencing countdown; engines on...

Take your protein pills and strap your seatbelts on!

Ahem, yes. Landing on Kaien's heart, a strange and unexplored surface that will reveal many illuminating secrets. If you **_let it. _**If you **_listen._**

Then again you're so self-conceitedly mundane you probably won't. So let's just...try this...

"Ah, it's Kaien!"

"Kyoraku-sempai," the family guy (yes, a very good pun) greeted him, "What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"I'll tell you," Shunsui's voice was buoyant with gaiety. He patted his robes down as Kaien nodded to his lieutenant.

"Yadomaru."

"Shiba," Lisa returned coolly. Shunsui turned to her.

"Lisa, help me look for it, please?"

"You mean lay my hands on you?" she scoffed. "You must be joking."

"Ahh, such a suspicious woman I've saddled myself with...here," the kimono captain took Ganju from Kaien and handed him to the brunette. "Hold the sweetheart. Kaien, **_you _**help me look."

Half-outraged and half-bemused (his stock standard response to most everything Shunsui did) Kaien slipped his hands up the man's sleeves and pulled out a sealed note.

"It's for you, from Ukitake." Shunsui took Ganju from Lisa and cooed at him. The infant blinked and made spit bubbles, something Shunsui thought the benchmark of high intelligence. Kaien scanned the note; it was an invitation to have tea the next morning. He looked up.

"Ostentatious to send a captain-lieutenant pair to deliver something this trivial."

"He wasn't going to send us," Shunsui agreed ineffably, "I wanted words with you and volunteered to bring it. Lisa came out of the kindness of her heart."

Lisa raised an eyebrow that said _you mean the cold lump of perverted putty in my chest _and Kaien braced himself. "What kind of words?"

"Will you be my fukataichou?"

Lisa shot her boss an alarmed look and Kaien skipped back.

"Wha-!"

"The answer when asked that question by Ukitake," Shunsui continued, "Is 'yes'. I thought you'd like a hint, seeing how much trouble you're having finding the right thing to say to him."

"Kyoraku-sempai..."

"I'm sure you have your reasons for saying 'no'." Shunsui's mellow eyes were on fire with hidden things. "I think he'd pay dearly to hear them. If you must disappoint a senior whom you've been favored by since our school days, you owe him an explanation. A satisfactory one."

"Sempai, I..."

"You're not answerable to me, Kaien." The lesson having ended, Shunsui's voice was carelessly jovial again, "So stop looking ashamed. Lisa, shall we go?"

Kaien took Ganju back and watched them tread the beaten path. A hundred yards down, Yadomaru Lisa turned over her shoulder and smiled.

000

During tea they talked about changes in the Gotei 13 and a young upstart of a genius named Ichimaru Gin who had recently joined the 5th Division.

"Hehe...I guess this puts me one step away from the lieutenant post, huh?"

"You don't have to look so happy about it," Jyuushiro raised his eyebrows. "And how does a recruit in the 5th Division affect you in the 13th?"

"Well," Kaien said, "Kids are so much sharper these days! You want to choose someone better than me."

Jyuushiro seemed weary beyond words. "I don't, Kaien."

They avoided each other's eyes and also the sore subject that had time and again ripped into hearts until Kaien, unable to bear it, excused himself. Doubt heckled him mercilessly until he was monstrous, lousy with it. Like a retired sumo wrestler's, his heart felt heavy with fat and inaction. His feet dragged him away from Jyuushiro for a while further, and then they could go no more.

Kaien turned and sprinted back, shedding kilos of regret per step.

Jyuushiro was still sitting at the tea table, peering remorsefully into a box of something. Upon Kaien's reappearance he slammed guilty the hinged top shut, and peered remorsefully at his kouhai's sweaty frown instead.

"Of course I want to be your vice-captain!"

Delight bloomed bountifully on Jyuushiro's carved face.

"But I have to ask you to consider carefully, sempai. Am I the best man for the job?"

Confusion drowned delight.

"I have two younger siblings...one's only a baby...to care for. I can't afford to spend long hours away from home. I refuse to put career before family! And also with your frail health the lieutenant's duties will often double. Am I equal to this challenge?"

Earnest regret filled Jyuushiro's face as he measured his panting underclassman with wise eyes.

"Kaien, sit. You look ready to keel over."

The captain poured him a fresh cup of tea and broke his heart with a well-calculated smile. "I never knew you thought so badly of me."

Kaien gagged. "What...!"

"You think I forgot Kukaaku and Ganju when I asked you to be my lieutenant? You think I'm selfish enough to force you to pick between them and me? After all, I would lose badly."

"Jyuushiro-sempai...!"

"Kaien we've known each too long for you to underestimate me like this."

The brunet gave the diseased captain a long, hard look before prostrating himself in an apologetic bow.

"You're right. I'm sorry."

Jyuushiro sighed. "To make mistakes...it is in all of us. Trust me more in the future, alright? Trust me as I trust you." He smiled again. Like superglue he put Kaien's heart back in its place. "I trust you to bear this burden, and I'm sure of your ability. Kaien, haven't I been your favorite upperclassman all these years? Don't I know you and your limits? Since my graduation there has been no one I even considered for this position but you. You're right...with my illness your duties will be more than that of a normal deputy. And I think you will enjoy them thoroughly, because you are the kind of man who feels a day is wasted unless he has worked hard enough to feel his back dying a miserable death.

"Don't look at me like that. You know it's true."

But Kaien continued to look anyway.

"Ganju..."

"Oh, Kaien. Haven't I just asked for trust, a little faith? You can move out of the Rukongai; the Shiba family has endured enough. You can move into the 13th Division quarters. Ganju and Kukaaku will be under your nose all day.

"What are you afraid of?"

The brunet lowered his head. "Have you really only ever considered me?"

"For heaven's sake," said impatient Jyuushiro, for whom at one point enough was enough, "You're hesitating like a schoolgirl with her first kiss. Give yourself to me, kouhai."

This was as aggressive and forward as Jyuushiro would get, and Kaien was happy to take it, and also the box in his lap which he thrust at Kaien. The Shiba prince opened it and stared.

"I had that commissioned," Jyuushiro said quietly, "The week after I joined the Gotei 13."

And the last of Kaien's moronic tendencies drained to the ocean. He reverently reached in to lift the solid gold lieutenant armband with the silk sash, his name and rank etched into its back.

"Jeez, sempai," he laughed shakily, "You could've have shown this to me earlier?"

Jyuushiro turned up his nose at the last dregs of tea in the pot. "What would you have done?"

"I...I don't know." Kaien grinned soporifically, "Help me tie it on."

They sat together afterwards, drinking in each other's company.

"Sempai, I have the **_highest _**opinion of you. Okay?"

"Well. It's taichou now," Jyuushiro, teasing! "But thank you."

"Sempai, I love you."

"Well. Sentarou and Kiyone might give you competition," Jyuushiro, amused! "But I love you too."

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**I don't think I can ever write Yoruichi without mentioning Byakuya. **


	13. Sixty Nine and Short A Few

**Exciting Proposal **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.**

**A/N: This is the last chapter. For those of you who are interested, there is a Jyuushiro/Rukia oneshot I posted called "Serendipity". It was meant to be a chapter of this, but I decided against including it. **

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

The simple thing to do would be to beat her black and blue and maybe even yellow until she quit her god damn ear splitting dust raising _**tantrums.**_

"Kenseiiii Mashiro wants to go hooooome!"

Simple things aren't as simple as they seem, though. Beating her would shut her up for now but she'd give him pouty lips and sodden eyes for weeks until he cracked like a pot left too long in the kiln and apologized on bended knee.

Kuna Mashiro, the pain in Muguruma Kensei's terribly attractive ass.

"Shut up! If you didn't wanna stick it out you shouldn't have volunteered!"

She wailed, "Mashiro only wanted to stay with you! No one said anything about hollows!"

He didn't know what he'd done to warrant such devoted attachment. When it didn't incense him to violent rage it was quite flattering. Those moments were too few.

"Mashiro, you're a freakin' shinigami. It's kinda given no one has to mention hollows on a fuckin' soul burial trip!"

When _**she **_first abused his given name, he'd tried to force her to use his surname by invoking hers. Nasty little witch didn't even _**stir **_when he called her Kuna, though. It was easier to cuss her out as Mashiro anyway.

"Mashiro's _**bored **_and she's had enough. Let's go _**back, **_Kensei!"

He closed his eyes and imagined a world where graduation examiners marking crazy shits like her weren't half-crocked themselves; where no one in their right mind or even the wrong one would hand a sword and a job to a temperamental two year old in a young woman's body. He imagined a world, in short, where he wasn't hassled by Mashiro's frothing presence which was so good at making him froth at the mouth. Kensei's lips curved. He'd never ask for anything more.

_Be careful what you wish for_, a snide voice in his head crowed, and then the ground under his feet erupted.

A long white thingy rose past him and kept rising. Rubble punctuated the air around his skyward bound body like foreboding exclamations. He reached the peak of a parabola and began to descend, smelling blood.

_Mashiro, _he thought, his ingrained sense of male superiority concluding that where his bulk had failed her delicate body stood not a chance. It was after he landed with an ominous onomatopoeia and felt cold in the back that he realized the blood was his own.

God _**damn **_sneak attacks.

"Kensei!" she yelled for him and he would've loved to leap to her defense, only a largish slab of rock had fallen on his outwardly splayed arm, crushing his right wrist and pinning his elbow. He relinquished his grip on his drawn zanpakutou. Mashiro would have to deal with these guys on her own for the mo'. A trembling hand—the left, obviously—rose to his ear to contact the squad that had gone ahead, leaving him to deal with the green haired baby. His receiver was intact and voices jabbered at him—presumably mounting a rescue operation—but his mic was bashed up and he couldn't really form words.

"Kensei hold on, I'm coming!"

With nothing better to do but wait for the concussion to set in, he did as she asked.

He'd never thought of Mashiro in terms of strength. Well she so insistently, physically took up all his thoughts when in front of him, he wasn't inclined to think of her during those blessed times of peace.

"Take this, ya dirty rotten hollow! Mashiro KICK!"

He had to admit. _**Had **_he given her some thought, he'd have vastly underestimated her. The same voice that razed his patience to the ground when she whined knelled like death bells swinging through the air, blowing hollow brains out. There was even something _**cool **_in the way she could raise her foot to the side of her face, and bring vertical damnation on masked heads.

Yeah, he was probably concussed. What the hell. He watched her.

"Mashiro," he rasped, and the voices in his ear picked that moment to start talking again.

"Kensei!" they barked, "We see her! Hold on!"

Already doing **_that_**, wasn't he?

There was one hollow left, a big motherfucker with a ton of reiatsu. Mashiro flitted in front of it, luring the bastard away from Kensei. It had a whole of bunch of prongs on its body, some covered in Kensei's blood: this was the one that had taken him out of action just by showing up. It irritated him to no end that he'd been incapacitated by an enemy who hadn't even meant to do it.

Later it would strike him as deeply unsettling that organized hollow attacks were becoming so common these days. Worse, the shinigami were getting used to them instead of suspiciously fishing out the culprit responsible for the sudden united front. What was up with that?

(Aizen Sousuke was.)

The hollow lunged; the squad set upon it. Kensei's stomach contracted sharply as Mashiro went down under the fallen soul's mammoth body. A cloud of dust mushroomed towards the sky and then it was to hell with crushed hands or bleeding backs or unreleased zanpakutou; he roared with adrenaline and wrenched his arm free of the stone lying so jauntily atop it. His right shoulder popped out of his socket. The sheer fuckin' agony drove him to his knees and then one of his mates was helping him up.

"M'sword."

"Kensei, you're in no position to—"

**"**Gimme my damn sword!"

It was because of Mashiro that no one used his surname anymore, not if they'd been part of his division when she started. Mashiro was the baby of the Ninth; moody and annoying and too cute for her own good. There were some that might've taken advantage of that if there weren't others who'd break the bastards' bones for trying. No one blamed her and no one told her. Mashiro just didn't understand it, she didn't get how when camping out with a couple of guys she'd fall asleep on her sleeping bag and her unrestrained breasts would develop a life of their own, bouncing free of her yukata. It was enough to test almost anyone.

Someone held his zanpakutou out for him to take. His left hand gripped it inexpertly and gave it a few tentative swings. The rest of them were just gathered round the last hollow's dying body, deciding who would get to purify it. No one realized Mashiro was…

Gods.

The new guy, Tousen Kaname, stepped forward. Kensei wasn't sure what his own plan was, but he had a vague idea it involved hacking indiscriminately at the hollow. Probably (Kaname raised his blade) it was better to let the thing dematerialize—maybe Mashiro's body would be intact…

A horrid, ripping sound rent the air. Everyone froze and backed away from the hollow, whose back was bubbling weirdly. Hands held Kensei back and he tried to lunge forth, his nose thrust forward to sniff out who was doing that, the only person who might be _**inside the hollow itself—**_was it possible?

Kuna Mashiro breached the thing's failing skin, a spearing sphere of reiatsu in her small hands. She was covered in the stuff that passed for gore in hollows and looked faintly both pleased with and surprised at herself.

"Kuna!" someone gasped, and the hands let go of Kensei. He ran pell-mell, helter-skelter, arms trailing behind. He scooped her out of the hole she'd made and shook her and plunged his face onto her shoulder, giddy with relief.

Tousen Kaname lowered his weapon.

Mashiro hugged back, and the hollow vanished; disintegrated into a stream of shimmery particles. They dropped to the ground and applauding, cat-calling shinigami moved in on them, merrily thrusting the embracing idiots into the care of their healer squad. They weren't 4th Division, but they'd manage.

000

"Kensei made a full recovery like Mashiro knew he would 'cause hoopy guys like him don't stop for 'juries like that!"

"Kuna-san, please. The patient needs rest and _**quiet.**_"

"Why do you call him 'patient', Isane? You know Kensei's name so _**use **_it!"

He opened his eyes because seeing Mashiro next to tall Kotetsu Isane made her look extra bite-sized and he kinda liked that.

She stuck her big eyes and pursed her lips in his face. "Kensei!" she squealed. "You're awake!"

"Ah crap. You again."

Mashiro's green head jerked back and she wailed. "_**Waah **_Kensei's such a meanie even though you hugged me when I popped the hollow you're pretending you don't love me!"

Isane took a break. Evidently Retsu had recently stocked up on aspirin.

"Mashiro," he sat up and gave her the stink eye, "You're a little shit and I don't like you."

"Liar, Kensei!"  
"The fuck have I ever done to make you think that's a lie?"

"Don't you _**remember**_?" she stared wide-eyed as she trilled. "When Mashiro first joined our division her shinigami robes were too big! She was always trippin'. And one day she was about to fall down in front of Kensei and he _**caught **_her: love at first sight!"

There his heart went again, giggling nervously as she said 'love'. Mashiro only told him that about fifteen times a week, but his chest 'n' stomach never stopped reacting to it. Consequences. He constantly felt like throwing up.

Well, no one said love was pretty. Or Love, for that matter.

"Mashiro," Kensei was appalled, "That was fucking instinct."

"That's why Kensei's so amazing! Because being nice is _**instinct **_to him! You're a hero, Kensei! A life saver!"

She looked at him with brimming, sparkly eyes. Kensei didn't really know what to think. Mashiro had always treated him special for as long as memory cared to recall, but he'd never imagined it was because of their first meeting. How was he going to explain to her that the event she'd based all her love for him on meant nothing to him? Holding his arms out to a flailing, failing dame had come naturally; so much so that after setting her back on her feet and confirming her okay-ness he'd forgotten it so thoroughly even her reminding him was not ringing any bells. Was this the exalted occurrence that demanded her devotion?

Well, no. Not exactly. It had spawned it, but it couldn't have held her attention all this time. This was _**Mashiro **_and that had been years ago. Since then she'd remained stuck on him like stink on a dog because every day he showed her a new reason to do so. Kensei didn't have to say anything; what he did spoke so loudly to her she rarely heard a word that came out of his mouth. Definitely a good thing: Muguruma Kensei was so not a speaker.

"Mashiro…"

"Yeah, Kensei?"

He gave up. He patted her head. She rewarded him with a hug that dislocated his shoulder all over again.

Love, evidently, was pain.

000

A decade passed. The 46 Council completely lost its head and made him a captain. Muguruma Kensei in turn lost his head and said to Kuna Mashiro:

"Be my lieutenant, okay?"

She didn't seem to hear at first. Focusing on his rather dazed expression she chortled, "Yama-jii's totally losing his touch. How come Kensei's a captain? You're gonna look weird in that haori. Hey, didja say something?"

He stupidly repeated himself.

"Huh?" her eyes did that neat trick where they took up her whole face. "_**Me**_?"

Take it back. There's still time!

"Kensei!"

Too late.

"Yes!"

He was doomed. He didn't even regret it.

"See, you _**do **_love me!"

Well. Maybe just a touch.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**I had my misgivings about ending the series with a coupling that means so little to me, but I liked the symmetry of starting and finishing with a vaizard and also (broad) hints of romance. Besides, Shunsui and Lisa were not special when I wrote them; now they're among the dearest to my heart. Maybe I'll develop a thing for Kensei and Mashiro, having written this chapter. **

**In any case!**

**It's been a good run! Thank you very much for all the favorites, alerts, and encouragement in the form of sparkling reviews cut like diamonds in a shop. I hope I've delivered a fic that lingers in the memory, and maybe I'll see you around again~ **


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